The Legend of Zelda: A World at War
by xakattak
Summary: The Brynyan Empire has conquered a weakened Termina. Hyrule has decreed the land of its ally be regained with Hyrulean blood. Link Aires faces a baptism of blood and fire on the battlefield. A struggle like no other shall consume him amidst the chaos...
1. Farewell

**Chapter 1: Farewell**

A/N: All right everybody, this is a collaboration project between myself and LinkIsaacANDLloyd, a fellow writer here on this site. We both share a fascination with both the World War II era and The Legend of Zelda (disclaimer: we don't own Zelda) and we decided that it would be a novel idea to somewhat combine the two. Some of you who are avid historians will recognize historical WWII events placed in an LoZ setting, but we are not necessarily retelling WWII with Zelda characters. If this story were part of the Zelda canon, it would be taking place approximately two thousand years after the events of Ocarina of Time, with the events of Twilight Princess and Wind Waker also being a part of its past.

Most of the credit for this story so far goes to LinkIsaacANDLloyd, who has come up with most of the ideas that this trilogy's future has. I have chipped in here and there, but it was mostly him. When you review, be sure to give credit to him as well. Check out his profile. It won't let me do a hyperlink because it's gay.

There will be some content later in this story that will warrant only the chapters with the content a shiny M rating, that content not straying from violence and language. This is somewhat of a given since this is a war story. We shall warn you beforehand.

And now, without further ado, xakattak and LinkIsaacANDLloyd present The Legend of Zelda: A World at War (title subject to change).

* * *

The sun was setting, its final descent reddening the great expanse of the western horizon, bathing the endless fields of wheat beneath it in brilliant and beautiful shades of gold. A calm evening breeze stirred the fields, causing the stalks to sway gently. 

Though he had seen perhaps thousands of such sunsets in his twenty-one years of life to date, Link Aires couldn't help but be totally enraptured by the current one's beauty. His chores were forgotten as he stood in awe of its magnificence.

For the first time in many years he allowed himself to simply stand there, taking in the incredible sight of the setting sun. From the depths of his heart rose an unnamed emotion as he watched the coming of twilight, the world around him at peace.

All in a moment he realized why he was so stunned by this sunset. By this one above all others before it.

It would likely be the final time he saw the sun set over the endless rolling plains of his birth and childhood.

It meant so much to him, just to stand there, amongst the crop he had been raised to tend, staring at the sun he had watched set every evening he could readily remember. The wind picked up again, slightly harder than before, and messed with his golden blonde hair, which grew straight, just below his ear.

Suddenly, a hand darting to the top of his head, he wheeled around in panic. A wave of relief washed over him as he saw it caught on his idle harvest scythe's handle: his wide-brimmed straw hat.

Retrieving it, he put it back on his head, pulling it down tight so that it would not be able to blow off his head again. Looking up, he found himself facing the opposite direction of the fields, towards the assortment of farm buildings that sat peacefully across the meadow where their herd of cattle grazed calmly.

The old barn and its sloping roof, himself having just replaced the old wooden shingles with tin ones, so that it would hold better against the violent winds that came in the spring. The large equipment shed, with its two large tractors and half a dozen flat bed hay wagons and its three combines.

The large, round towers of the twin grain silos, their great height still inspiring awe in him after so many years. It was almost impossible to believe his great grandfather had built them with his own two hands, with only a few farmhands to help him.

The chicken coop which he and his brother had built as a present for their father three years past, the large corral where their half-dozen horses galloped freely, and the tiny tool shed, its old screen door still hanging open limply from when a bull had gotten lose the other month and smashed into it in a rage. There was no need to fix it; no thieves ever came out this far into the middle of nowhere. Their closest neighbors weren't for at least ten miles.

Above all that though, above all those memories and sentiments he felt for those places, he saw the tiny farmhouse in which he had been born and raised, which sat alone across the meadow, its red paint faded after many years of neglect so that it was now naught but a dull gray color.

Two-storied, a low wooden porch out front and the shutters of its windows left open to let in the last bit of light from the setting sun.

He knew, after so many years, exactly what was going on inside as he stood there and looked at it. His mother and little sister would be preparing dinner and setting the table, his father would be sitting in his recliner, reading the newspaper as he always did before the evening meal. His younger brother then, would likely be reading the sports section, doing his best in his isolated world in the country to follow the exploits of his favorite athletes.

To anyone else, it would seem boring, tedious, to do that same thing, all day, everyday. But to Link, it was comforting to know it went unchanged, the routine only altering with the passing of seasons. As long as he could recall, they had practiced the same pattern of activities, the pattern only slightly altering as he and his siblings grew older.

And he knew it would always endure, so long as anyone was present to work this land as his family had done for generations. One thing would change he knew, come tomorrow night.

After so many years, he would no longer be a part of that routine.

Sighing sadly, he began walking away from the fields, towards home, snatching up his harvest scythe as he went. Trudging along an irrigation ditch to avoid stepping on any of the crop, his attention was centered on the ground as he went, his expression morose.

'_Never again will I walk back this way...' _he thought sadly.

Reaching the edge of the fields, he stopped, a lone tear rolling down his cheek as he turned around to survey the land of his childhood one last time. He was shocked at what he saw.

Only a tiny bit of the sun was still visible over the horizon, and it had turned the sky a very deep, almost angry red. The wind had also picked up considerably, making the swaying motions of the wheat much more forceful than before. But it was neither the last glimpses of the sun, the sky or the wind which had stunned him.

The fields, once shimmering so brightly in gold and amber, now had a new color cast over them by the nearly disappeared sun. A deep brownish red, so like that of blood, now covered all before him. The wind picked up again, causing the fields to flow and shift before his eyes as if they had become a vast and stormy sea.

'_It could almost be a sea of blood,' _he pondered. The very idea of it made him shudder, and as the wind continued to blow across the Hyrulean plains with the added evening chill, he shivered. It was as if the entire world around him had seen it as well.

The animals in the meadow were no longer grazing happily, but had grown restless and were moving towards the barn doors. The insects and the birds had stopped chirping and singing, and the only sound left for his ears to pick up was the wind and his own breathing.

Turning away from the fields, he resumed his trek back to the house. No matter how hard he tried, he found he could find no good omen in such a sign.

-

Leaving his hat on the rack by the door, Link walked slowly into the house. His heavy work boots clumped loudly on the wooden floor on the hallway, its walls decorated sparsely with old family photos of their achievements over the years.

He smiled fondly as he looked at them each in detail, thinking back to simpler, less complicated times, when he would simply wake up and not know what day of the week it was, and it wouldn't matter in the least. When the days passed by, week after week, month after month, his life going about in perfect bliss and ignorance to the happenings of the outside world.

Taking a close look at a picture of his great grandfather, the man who had bought their five hundred acres so long ago, he realized just how little he knew about the man. In the picture he was standing with his arm draped lovingly around the shoulder of his young wife, her stomach heavy with child as they stood proudly before the recently completed grain silos.

Several other young men were in the photo as well, all smiling broadly: the farm hands his great grandfather had cherished so much as part of his family. Time and technology had made people like them insignificant, and even though he never knew any of them, Link felt a deep sadness in his heart.

Look towards the next one, he smiled as he beheld the photo of him holding in his already strong, adolescent arms a newborn baby calf, his father standing aside of him, proud of his son. He recalled that it had been his calf, born from the cow his father had entrusted him with raising and, eventually, breeding. It had been a long time since then, and the calf was no longer so small.

It was, he realized, smiling as he did so, the very same bull that had smashed the shed door nearly off its hinges. A pang of guilt rose in his stomach when he realized that since his charge had done the damage, he should have fixed it. Instead, the task would now fall to his father. His father was nearing the end of his prime, and wrenching the door free from its deep embedment in the wall might not prove as easy a task as it appeared.

Shaking his head, he laughed quietly at the next picture. The old farm hand Ingo, a relic of sorts from his grandfather's time, was passed out on the porch unceremoniously with a bottle of whiskey clutched in his hand, while his sister was giving him one of her trademark 'makeovers'. Though he had been too old and weak for work by then, his father had let Ingo stay out of respect for his invaluable help to his father. Besides, he had proved a great person to help watch the kids. When he hadn't been drunk, that was.

The memory of the old ranch hand brought a tear to his eye. He had passed away years ago, when Link was still a young boy. But the old drunken Brynyan had proved a great companion on the lonely little farm in the time he had known him. When he wasn't drinking or sleeping, he was telling him and his siblings stories of his homeland and how he had to leave for Hyrule when the Second Brynyan Empire had collapsed.

His country was deeply impoverished once the emperor was ousted from power Ingo had said, and he had to go and find work abroad to feed his family. They were too poor for them all to go to Hyrule, so he went alone and found work, sending a good portion of his earnings back to them. He had been a very noble man, as Link remembered, though stories of his not so noble brother had proved rather dark and inappropriate for children their age. During those stories though, he was usually drunk, or at least hung over and thus in a bad mood.

With his passing, a whole chapter of his childhood had come to a close, he realized. For the first time, he had born witness to the final result of the ravages of time: death. Before it had seemed such an alien thing, something that never occurred in their perfect little world. But the passing of the poor old farm hand, who had died of old age or perhaps his liver finally giving out, had shown him that death was always close by, a chilling companion to be feared and respected, but not dwelt upon. Such was his first real lesson in the real workings of the world.

Now though, as he stepped towards the empty doorframe at the end of the short entry hall, he became aware that the final chapter of his childhood would be over soon. He had but hours left before it was all swept away, and though he knew it was a bit premature, there was nothing he or anyone else could do about it.

Stepping through the empty doorframe into the kitchen, he stopped and looked around quietly. Glancing into the open door of the living room on the other side of the kitchen, he unconsciously saluted the carven idol of the Triforce, which sat atop the fireplace, putting his thumbs and forefingers together to form a triangle in front of his chest.

There was no one around as far as he could tell, though all the smells of his favorite foods drifted to his nostrils from where they were cooking on the kitchen stove. He knew that from that moment forward, the smells would always be linked to his memories of home, and the deep sadness that came with his longing to return.

He looked towards the single, small table at the center of the kitchen, just big enough to seat six, but having only to seat five since old Ingo's passing. It had suddenly become of great concern to him. He quickly became aware just how much the table meant to him. A simple kitchen table, carved by hand from wood along with the six matching chairs, had been a central part of his life for his entire life.

Every single day at dawn, noon, and late evening, he and the rest of his family would gather there, at the table, and take their meals. Meals grown and raised, picked and butchered, cleaned and cooked by their own hands. More important than that though, was the fact that no matter what had occurred on any particular day, they were there together. As a family.

'_But not for long,' _he thought sadly, taking a few more slow steps towards the table. _'Soon I'll be gone, and there'll be one less chair to be filled...'_

He wondered if they would remove his chair. Would they take it out of sight, to try and stifle the sorrow that filled their hearts? Or would they leave it be, to gather dust through the years and remain as a simple memorial to the memory of the person who had once sat down with them to eat?

Somehow he knew they would let it be. He knew none of them could bring themselves to move it even if they wanted to. It would mean so much just for them to leave it there and gaze upon it, so that they may never forget the one who sat there: a son, and a brother. He knew he would do the same.

And there on the table, sitting so innocently was the thing that had brought everything into perspective and changed his life forever.

Snatching the black envelope, embroidered with gold lettering and the Hyrulean Royal Seal, he carefully pulled the single slip of paper out and read over it again, as if to make sure that he wasn't imagining it, that it truly was happening.

_Citizens of Hyrule, rejoice! To combat the ever encroaching threat of the Brynyan Empire on the borders of our allies and the tranquility gifted to us by the Holy Triforce and the Goddesses, the Royal Court of King Daphnes and Queen Elizabeth, with their mighty decree of divine wisdom, have felt the time has come to raise fifty new regiments of our most honorable Hyrulean Guard. Also, in their wisdom they have decreed that those selected for this most holy and sacred task must report for duty with all due haste, so that they may all the sooner complete their training and combat the enemies of the Royal Family, the Goddesses, the Holy Triforce, and our great Hyrule! We will have total victory over our heathen foe, citizens of Hyrule! Our Holy Triforce and the Goddesses will allow us no less!_

It went on for a while longer, explaining the finer details regarding where draftees should report, the consequences for not showing up, and more gaudy boastfulness of Hyrule's superiority and unquestionable victory in the war.

Link believed quite firmly in the Goddesses, the Triforce, and the Royal Family. He knew little of the true state of the world, of the war against Brynya, but the entire thing filled him with dread. Something about it didn't seem right, as if it was all sugarcoated propaganda designed to fill the simple minds of the average folk with hope and a sense of national unity and pride.

But he knew the Royal Family would not do that. Their love for Hyrule and its people was too strong for them to lie about something so important.

"Link?" A quiet voice from behind him roused him from his thoughts. He turned around, to behold his mother standing there, a few cobs of corn fresh from the garden tucked under her arm. It was evident by the redness of her face that she had crying hard, and her eyes still bore the watery marks of tears.

"Hi...mom." She looked such a mess; he could barely bring himself to say the words as he saw her. The fact that he, however slightly, was responsible for her current disposition hung heavily on his mind.

"You're done with you chores...?" she asked, her voice about to break, not looking at him as she walked to the table and set down the corn on its surface.

"Y-yeah," he stammered uncomfortably. "I figured I'd come in early and… finish packing…" He bit his lip and stared at the floor, unable to finish the sentence. He still clutched the letter tightly in his hand.

There was a minute of awkward silence between them, neither one having the courage to say anything to the other. His mother sank down into a chair slowly, as if all her energy had been spent.

"...For tomorrow," she finished for him quietly. "That's good. You...can't be late after all...for..." She faltered, her voice trailing away quietly as she breathed in sharply. Suddenly she had buried her face in her hands, and was crying loudly and uncontrollably.

He was at her side in an instant, kneeling on the floor next to the chair but still coming up to her shoulders. She leaned against him and continued to cry while he embraced her, trying his best to keep his tears in check.

He failed.

"Oh...Oh Link, my precious little boy...How could the Goddesses be so cruel...?" She cried in between sobs in that manner for several long minutes in which Link said nothing. What could he have said? That he would be alright? There was the chance that he would be all right, and return home when the war was over.

But if he said that, and then he got killed? He would not give his mother hope that very likely would be snatched away with the arrival of a priest bearing his dog tags and a flag on their doorstep. He refused to be that cruel.

"Don't cry mom...Its...I'm going to..." He trailed off when he realized he was about to say exactly what he knew he couldn't say.

She took her head off his shoulder and sat up, turning her whole body to face his and placing her hands on his shoulders.

"You're going to be alright? That's what you were going to say, wasn't it?"

"I-"

"No, Link. Don't say that... it's hard enough as it is, without you giving me promises you may not be able to keep," she sighed, fussing over his unkempt hair to distract herself from the pain.

"Then what can I say to make you feel better?" he asked, his voice deathly silent. They embraced again, deeply, his mother's tears dripping onto his shoulder slowly.

"Promise me... that no matter what happens..." She sat up again, looking deep into his cerulean eyes with her own chocolate brown ones. "...No matter what happens, promise me you'll do us all proud. Be brave in the face of everything that comes your way... just make us proud. Whatever happens, make all of us, all of Hyrule, proud of what you do... so that...if you do... fall... then we can at least have the solace, however slight, of knowing you fought... and died... bravely and honorably... just promise me that, Link. If nothing else..."

He looked towards the floor, biting his lip. "Is that it? Is that all I can do to lessen the pain?"

"Yes," she nodded slowly. "There's nothing any of us can do to keep you here now that you've gotten an order of induction... so what else is there to do?"

"Alright," he said hesitantly. "I... I promise. But mom, I...What if I can't keep this promise? What if I... let you all down..." Standing up, he walked away, head lowered in shame, leaving his mother alone at the chair staring at his back.

She stood up slowly and walked to stand next to him, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. He turned to face her to acknowledge the gesture, and was amazed to see a smile grace her tear-stained face. The firmness of her voice denied all the grief and tears she had endured the past few days.

"You won't."

With that she turned away, tears still rolling down her face as she picked up the corn from the table and walked over to the stove, resuming her preparations of dinner. Link felt a prideful smile creep onto his face then, despite all his doubts.

"I won't..."


	2. A Not So Happy Birthday

A/N: We SINCERELY apologize for the RIDICULOUS amount of time it took us to update this story. Collabs work a little differently than independent stories, and it's a little hard when we leave on opposite sides of the country. Anyway, at last, here is the long-awaited chapter two. Enjoy!

Addendum: We have updated this chapter because it was in need of some revisions. One important note: This chapter alone has been bumped up to an M rating. The story itself is T, but because of some grisly content that will be in this and also later chapters, some of them will be rated M. Just letting you know beforehand so I don't get any whiney reviews. Thanks!

* * *

**Chapter 2: A Not So Happy Birthday**

Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating every corner of the room with its magnificence. Cool morning winds swept through the open space, setting the curtains aflutter gently. The flickering shadows cast by the sun against the flapping curtains danced around the room, casting mesmeric patterns and designs over the floor and the wall.

At the far end of the room, buried deep beneath the covers in an attempt to hide from the clinging chill of the early autumn night, laid the room's sole occupant. Her bed's headboard rested against the far wall, so that she could sit up and stare straight at the window. The true intent of such placement of the bed was to safeguard the occupant against sleeping in.

Though she was meant to be up around the crack of dawn, her exhausting work often meant that despite years of conditioning, she would still oversleep. With the sun shining in through her window directly onto her, she would at least wake with the sun each morning. Although as seasons changed and it became more and less effective, it was better than nothing.

Shadows dancing along the blankets in intricate patterns, the constant passing of light on and off the occupant's peaceful face soon roused her from the deepest parts of her dreams. Moaning in indignation and rolling over on her side, she found no escape from the light.

Finally conceding defeat, she slowly opened her eyes with a grumble and drew off the covers, throwing her legs over the side of her bed and sitting there for a few minutes, working the sleep from her eyes and the rest of her body.

Long auburn hair framed her face, its texture frizzy and unkempt after a long time snuggling into the pillows and blankets. Dark blue eyes looked towards the floor, blinking rapidly to work out the strange blots of light, which clouded their vision.

Yawning long and loudly, she took her slender hands and rubbed at her eyes, working out the last bits of tiredness and looking up with a newfound wakefulness.

Hopping off the bed, Malon stood on the hardwood floor and gazed around her room for the first time that day. She noticed finally the sunlight that streamed through the window. She sighed as she bent down to scratch an itch behind her knee, lifting the hem of her long nightdress to reach the spot.

So she had overslept. Again. She sighed sadly and walked briskly towards her armoire and picking out her usual work clothes. A white blouse, long pink skirt, a yellow bandana, and heavy work boots that came up above her ankles.

She was angry as she dressed. Today was her birthday, and now she was seventeen. The age of independence. A woman by all standards now, she was now to wake early like all adults did across the country. It seemed like an ancient and silly tradition, but it was one that was well honored by most everyone. The average Terminan life was not, after all, very extravagant or interesting. Amusement had to be sucked dry from every tiny milestone in a person's life. Every reason to celebrate and be merry was seized wholeheartedly by all of Termina's large working class. They had nothing else to look forward to, for the most part.

That she could not follow a simple tradition she was now expected to, and wanted to, fulfill irritated her.

'_At the least,' _she thought, _' they could wake me themselves so I don't go on sleeping for hours more!' _

Hissing in annoyance as she hopped one-footed around her room trying to her second boot on, she yelped in surprise as she fell backward. Landing hard on her bottom, she whooped when she saw she had gotten the boot on. Standing up and stretching one last time, she walked to the door, but stopped when she came to the mirror.

'_What am I doing?' _she wondered. She stood there and studied herself for a moment, not sure what to make of what she saw. She was a woman now. The thought almost scared her.

To her, she certainly wasn't a woman physically. Looking at herself in the mirror closely, almost obsessively, she frowned. While she was far from what could be called 'barren', whenever she looked at herself, she never saw much besides an average girl.

She had curves, oh yes. Ample ones inherited from her mother. Nearly everything about her seemed to come from her mother actually, as if she was an exact duplicate and her father had had no part in her creation.

In fact, almost everyone said she looked nearly exactly like her mother presently, and was the perfect image of her when she had been younger. She liked to think of it that way, as her mother had always been a very beautiful woman, but she just didn't feel like she could match up to her. Being secluded in the country with only her family for company had left her at the mercy of her own opinion, and as such had become convinced she was far from pretty.

'_Snap out of it, Malon! Don't bother with silly little matters like this...' _

She berated herself quietly as she turned to leave. Then something caught her attention.

Reaching down into her bosom, she withdrew a necklace. It was wrapped around her neck by nothing more than some cheap string, but that wasn't what mattered to her. Hanging from the string, was a tiny piece of solid jade. It was carved to resemble a tiny Triforce, and it seemed to almost shimmer in representation of what it mimicked.

"Grandfather..." she sighed. Rubbing the jade between her fingers, she felt its smooth surface and sigh again, this time in longing. Blinking back tears, she stuck the tiny piece of the Jade Sea back down her shirt and walked quickly away from the mirror and towards the door.

-

Shaking the reminiscent thoughts from her head, Malon left her bedroom, shutting the door quietly. Passing her parents' bedroom on her way down the hall, she paused suddenly and turned around, peering into her parents' room as quietly as possible. The door had been left slightly ajar and she was able to look inside just enough to see that the bed was empty. They were likely outside doing their work along with her own, she supposed.

With a sigh, Malon turned from her parents' doorway and began to descend the creaking wooden staircase, which led straight into the kitchen. She yawned as she came down, squinting her eyes and covering her mouth with her hand.

"SURPRISE!"

She nearly toppled over in shock, her heart beating frantically against her chest as she gripped the railing so tight, she thought she might crush it. Sighing in relief, she saw it was only her family standing around the kitchen table, beaming at her as she released her grip on the railing and moved to join them.

Her mouth watered when she observed what was sitting on the table before her, still steaming. The table was absolutely covered with all different kinds of foodstuff to a point of extravagance she hadn't oft seen but for the books about kings and castles of old that she loved when she was a child. Sausage, flapjacks, bacon, scrambled eggs, fried eggs, biscuits, and ham were but a few of the things that garnished the unassuming wooden table.

Malon could not help but smile. She had expected something like this, but nothing this extensive. This was why they had allowed her to sleep in. She should have known.

"Happy birthday, baby!" said Malon's mother, Mara as she moved to embrace her child. Malon returned the hug and smiled, but her mother caught the slight glint of distaste in her eye.

"Oh sorry, I forgot! You're a lady now," she said teasingly. "Well don't just stand there! Eat up!"

"I can't eat all this by myself!" Malon exclaimed.

"Did yeh really think we'd let yeh eat this by yeh'rself?" said Talon with a grin.

"Yea, sis. I mean gosh, we all know you can pack it in but even you would be done in by all this," piped her younger sister, Naomi, from her seat. Malon gave her a sarcastic death glare as she took her seat.

They all sat down around the breakfast table with big grins on their faces as they regarded the food. Malon was so grateful for her parents and all they did for her, and even her sister, despite her snotty attitude. She knew it was going to be the best birthday she had ever had, all things considered.

Talon was about to shovel a whole forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth before Mara slapped the back of his hand, causing the eggs and fork to fall back down to his plate with a small clatter

"What, what, what!?" cried Talon, his annoyance as evident as his wife's.

"We have to say our prayers first and give thanks to the goddesses!" she said. "This is Malon's first day as a woman, and we're going to do things properly!"

Talon grumbled something about the 'stupid goddesses' before clasping his hands in front of him and closing his eyes.

"Any volunteers?" asked Mara. Everyone remained with their hands clasped and heads bowed. She took a deep breath and rolled her eyes. "Then I will do it..."

"Dear, beneficent goddesses...hear our mortal words. We give thanks to you, for all you have given us: our health, our home, and each other. We thank you, and we offer ourselves to you as we always have, and always will. Never will we stray from the divine path you laid down before humanity. For all time, in life and death, we stand always as you're humble servants, for that is all we can offer in return for all the blessings you have seen fit to give us. Amen."

"Amen!" cried Talon, drowning out the quiet and solemn 'amens' of Malon and Naomi. He instantly dived for the nearest food within reach and threw it all on his plate, the eggs he had so wanted to devour forgotten at the bottom. Mannerisms were completely forsaken as he began coating the large pile with a thick layer of syrup, making quite a mess as much of it oozed onto the tablecloth. Mara rolled her eyes in minor disgust but could not hide her amused smile, and Malon laughed at her father's voracious appetite. Her mother's looks, and her father's appetite. She laughed at the all to true thought and dived into the delicious spread eagerly.

Truly, today was going to be a great day.

-

After breakfast, Mara and Talon went outside to do both their own and Malon's chores. Malon had decided shortly after breakfast that laying on the couch all day listening to the radio shows talk about depressing things was not how she wanted to spend her birthday. They were going into town that night to meet up with the rest of the immediate family to truly celebrate, but she didn't really want to wait for that time in complete and utter boredom.

Resolute in her decision, she walked upstairs and into her bedroom, throwing herself down on her bed and sighing loudly. Rolling to the other side of her bed, she examined the small bookshelf there. She had accumulated many, many books throughout her life, and she had barely read any of them so far.

Running her hand over the spines, she looked for one that might interest her. She saw her old favorites, "The Legend of the Hero of Time" and "Rise of the Winds", but passed them by in favor of something different. Her eyes locked onto one in particular, and she grabbed in off the shelf and examined it.

"Whispers from The Deep," she read, turning it over and looking all over its cover as if trying to uncover some flaw in its design. Shrugging, she set some pillows against the headboard and leaned back against them, slipping under the blankets and putting her legs out straight, crossing them at the ankles.

She opened to the first page, and saw a sketch of the Jade Sea covering the whole thing. It was labeled with many tiny details, most of which she had to squint to see. Dominating the map though, were two large words in bold, red ink. 'The Deep'. She shivered, as if reading the words had enacted some ancient evil.

Turning the page, she began to read.

_For many centuries, scientists, historians, biologists, and paranormal researchers have all been engaged in a heated debate over the exact purpose of the Jade Sea. No one to this day has yet to discover just what its true purpose is without referring to legends, or those that did find out didn't survive long enough to tell anyone of their findings. However, in 579AF, a distinguished and confident explorer by the name of Sir Wallongiye Esguiyle made a very important discovery in regards to this mysterious place, one that nearly solved the mystery and gave the world answers beyond the scope of mere legends._

Intrigued by the mysteries of the distant Jade Sea herself, Malon focused intently on the book. She forgot, at least for a while, about everything as the book drew her in.

_A former knight master general of the Brynyan Republic of the People of the Inherent Land before its collapse at the end of the Great War in 565AF, Sir Wally(as he preferred to be called, for obvious reasons) had many resources at his disposal that he had extricated from the dying kingdom. As the victorious armies of the Grand Alliance of the Three marched through the gates of Malvagita, Sir Willy was already reestablishing his wealth and power on the Sickened Coast in southeast Sumeria. _

_He chose this remote and unsavory area simply because he had no choice. He was, or had been, a high-ranking Brynyan military officer, and likely would have been executed along with his fellows by the victorious Grand Alliance. Also, by leaving Brynya to its fate instead of remaining to defend it to the death, he faced heavy scorn from his countrymen, and many a Brynyan scholar published a scathing indictment of his actions in the years after the war, which were seen as traitorous and cowardly._

_Despite the negative emotion felt towards him, he used his newfound freedom and continued wealth to pursue his life dream of traveling the world. In 573AF he came upon the Jade Sea. Instantly it captivated him with its endless waves of solid jade and the seemingly limitless possibilities for historic findings beneath its surface, and he abandoned his travels and returned to his new estate on the southern coast of Dragon Roost Island, then in transition from sovereign state to Hyrulean protectorate.. There, he prepared for a grand expedition of the sea, and in 575AF he was off, intent on uncovering the secrets of the mysterious land._

_Four years of searching yielded nothing more incredible than a few areas made of far higher quality jade then most, which only increased his already massive wealth, and a massive gaping cavern that seemingly ran deep beneath the sea. Anyone who he sent in to investigate failed to return, and rather quickly no one would go down under any circumstance. Of the only two men to ever make it out alive, one died just days later of unexplained sickness and the other spent all his time babbling incoherently of insane horrors, not even stopping to eat or drink. His fellows reportedly put a bullet through the back of his head to cease his mental and physical agony._

_When it all seemed for naught and he prepared to return home to take the bodies of the dead men back to their families and compensate them for their loss, something incredible happened. On the bodies of one of the dead men, an ancient scroll was found. Presumably he grabbed it as he fled the depths of the cavern from whatever was down there. _

_It spoke of the creation of the Jade Sea, and the digging of The Deep. The document is mostly in tatters now, but what little is known of what it full said is that apparently in ancient times, the Goddess of water, Nayru, sealed a great treasure on the sea floor and appointed her chosen race, the now extinct Zora, to guard it. To further protect it, she turned the sea around that region into solid Jade, encasing the treasure miles below within the now solid mass. _

_But Nayru had done a peculiar thing according to the scroll. She must have known that the treasure might one day be needed again for whatever reason, and so she created a path to it. Known in the scroll, presumably of Zora origin, as simply 'The Deep', all that is known is that it is the only path into the heart of the Jade Sea, where the treasure supposedly lies. But living in the vast tunnels and caverns beneath the sea are great monsters and demons, ancient guardians of the treasure appointed by Nayru, if we are to believe the reports of Sir Willy and his expedition.. To date, this is the best explanation the academic community can provide for the phenomenon of the Jade Sea._

_All of this foreboding knowledge did not discourage Sir Willy, though. Instead, it reignited his passion of exploration as he resolved to find the treasure no matter what. Returning to Brynya, he assembled a small army of former Brynyan storm troopers and helped himself to a few army tanks while he was at it. Something so illegal shouldn't have been allowed to occur, but under the rule of the new, weak government, Brynya was in constant turmoil and more or less in a state of anarchy except in the major cities. _

_He returned with his army to the gaping maw of The Deep in 582AF at the age of fifty-seven. No one has seen or heard from him or any of his men since. There are many speculations as to what became of them, but they all lead to the same conclusion: Sir Wallongiye Esguiyle and his hired army went into The Deep and were slaughtered by whatever was inside. Considering that most ancient wards and defenses are rendered futile by modern technology, the thought that what is inside The Deep could take on and destroy such well equipped men is chilling. _

_The only thing left to mark his exploits on the desolate landscape are his jade mines, now owned and operated by Hyrule, and his base camp some two miles north of The Deep. Despite what he..._

Malon set down the book and looked at her door, where cries were coming from the living room below.

"MAAAALOOOON!!!"

The shrill voice of her sister pieced the air and made her cringe. Setting the book face down so she could resume reading later, she bolted out her room, down the stairs, and into the living room as fast as she could. Naomi was lounging on their father's recliner, the family cat, Mr. Meowz, curled up in her lap. She smiled when she saw Malon approaching.

"What is it now, sis?" asked Malon, hands on her hips as she gave Naomi a mock glare. Her complexion suddenly turning serious, Naomi pointed towards the radio that sat on the coffee table in front of the couch.

"Could you turn that on for me? Please? I'm not sure how and Daddy would be really mad if I broke it again so..." She trailed off and stared at the floor, trying to look as cute and innocent as possible.

Rolling her eyes, Malon allowed herself a small smile at her sister's antics. Turning around, she walked around the coffee table and plopped down on the couch, reaching out and flicking the switch on the radio as she did.

The two of them were silent for a time, enjoying the relaxing music and just laying there, unmoving and uncaring for a time.

"Sis?"

"Yeah?"

"Could you change the station? I'm too...too tired..."

Yawning, Malon fumbled for a moment for the dial and then began turning it clockwise slowly, making sure to at least catch a slight glimpse of what each station had to offer.

Eventually, her boredom won out and her hand slipped slowly from the dial and slumped to the floor. She was unaccustomed to such lazy days, and the immense boredom was beginning to weigh on her mentally and physically. She remembered the book she had started to read, but found herself feeling too sluggish to go back to her room to read it.

Yawning loudly, she rolled over on her stomach and rested her forehead against the armrest. The radio continued playing in the background as the sisters slept. Neither was aware when the broadcast was split by a blood-curdling scream and followed by a storm of static.

-

The earth churned and shifted beneath their mighty weight. Their treads tore the grass, the undergrowth, and the very earth to tatters as they rolled over all.

Massive dual turrets scanned the horizon slowly, searching for a target. The mighty war machine inched forward across the open plain slowly, its massive bulk dwarfing the others surrounding it. It was an Imperator class. It was the mightiest piece of military engineering in the known world.

The Titan rolled over everything before, crushing enemy fortifications and units without losing even a small amount of its speed. Its bulk was like that of ten Saber tanks, and its cannons as long as three. Massive shells, each loaded with enough explosive capabilities to level whole towns in just a single five minute barrage of twenty shots, were idling at the base of the barrel after being loaded hours before.

Black smoke rose in thick trails from its exhaust pipes and the air was thick with the smell of gasoline. Suddenly, with a loud screech, the treads were locked up and the mighty machine came to a near instant halt. The rest of the column stopped dead as well, following the example of the Titan without question.

The scraping of metal was barely audible over the roar of the engine and other systems. With a final effort, the top hatch was thrown open and a man stood out, exposed from the waist up as he took in his surroundings with his own eyes, instead of the tank's monitors.

Endless grassland stretched away in all directions around them. The man frowned and scratched the back of his neck, lost in thought. He wore a full body suit of pitch-black color, and a full-faced helmet equipped with a tinted visor. Lifting his visor, he flinched at the sudden brightness of the sun. A voice from below shook him from his thoughts.

"Was siehst du, Holger?"

"Gras, Fluchst du! Und mehr Gras! Nichts aber verdammtes Gras," came his less that courteous reply.

"Uns finden eine fickt Sichtbarmachung auf etwas, bevor ich dich für Unbotmäßigkeit durchführe, Holger! Genug, die herum dicking sind!" The gruff voice of the tank commander made him visibly flinch.

"Traurig, Herr. Ich verbessere für zukünftige Angelegenheiten, Herr…"

He scanned the horizon as best he could, squinting his eyes and shading them from the rays of the sun with his hands. Shaking his head in frustration, he pulled off the binoculars from his belt and adjusted their focus.

With his magnified sight, he had hoped to find something. Instead, he just saw more grass. Endlessly long miles more of it. He banged a fist on the tank in frustration, loud enough that a few of the neighboring Saber tanks' spotters gave him a look.

He was about to give up, when suddenly a dark dot loomed in his vision. Sighing in relief, he got as clear a look at it as possible. Grinning, he disappeared back down the hatch, locking it behind him.

In the unbearable heat of the Titan, he took his seat next to the tank commander and rapidly worked his controls.

"Brunnen? Was sahst du?" The tank commander looked at him with a cocked eyebrow.

He turned to his superior officer slowly, grinning widely. Snapping his visor back down, he allowed himself a small chuckle.

"Unser erstes Zivilisation, Herr."

The entire tank crew grinned evilly, permeated with malicious laughter.

-

Malon was awakened by a cry of terror from outside. Groggily, she sat up, rubbing her eyes.

And then came the horror.

Malon ran to the barn, where her mother was. Talon was screaming something at her, but she didn't hear anything. She wanted to know why her mother had screamed.

Malon stopped at the entrance of the barn to see her mother frozen in place, holding a pitchfork with a large clump of hay still on the end of it.

"Malon! Run!" she cried.

Malon never got the chance.

A horrible screeching sound pierced through Malon's ears and into her very soul. A white streak flew through the air right past her, headed straight for the barn. Before Malon even knew what was going on, she was flying backwards through the air, soaring at what seemed like fifty miles per hour. Then she was flat on her back, looking at the sky as fire rained down around her. Flaming boards soared through the air, and black smoke billowed into the sky.

Malon clumsily got to her feet, though the wind had been knocked out of her. She could not believe what she was seeing. There, in front of her, was the barn that had been there her whole life, completely in flames. It had been blown completely to smithereens.

She ran back over to the barn, refusing to believe her eyes. There was burning wood everywhere, and the black smoke was blowing over to her, making her eyes water and her throat sore.

"Mom! Mom!" Malon screamed.

Talon was on his knees, in complete shock. Tears had started to roll down his cheeks.

Then, Malon saw something she wished she hadn't. She saw the end of the pitchfork her mother had been holding, the hay on the end now blackened. She followed down the shaft of the pitchfork to its end, and what she saw made her sick. Her mother's right hand was still clutching the pitchfork, but it had been totally blown off the rest of her body. There was a thick bone protruding from where her wrist had been, covered with blood. The flesh of her hand was almost completely black, charred by the horrific explosion. Malon doubted that any other part of her body would be recognizable.

Malon didn't even have time to mourn. Something had bounced over in her father's direction from over the nearby ranch wall, though she couldn't tell what it was.

Malon was rocked yet again with the force of another explosion, though this one not nearly as big. She was knocked on her back again, though not with as much force. There was an excruciating pain in her right shin, and she was scared to look at it.

It didn't take her as long to come to her senses. Malon sat up and looked down at her leg. There was a large piece of metal jutting out from the bone in the front of her leg. Shrapnel. It had pierced through her skirt, her flesh, her muscle, and her bone.

The pain became unbearable. Malon howled in pain, reaching out to pull the piece of shrapnel out. When she touched it, the pain increased. She shrieked in pain, deciding to leave it alone. She looked over to her father.

Talon screeched in pain, that of which was most obviously more excruciating than what Malon was enduring. Three pieces of shrapnel were imbedded in the left side of his face. Unfortunately, none of them pierced his brain and graced him with death. One of them went through his eye but did not go far enough into his optic nerve to kill him. Another piece went through his cheek and into his mouth, cutting the roof of his mouth every time he tried to close it. The third piece had pierced through his jaw and out again.

Malon lacked the strength to stand, so she could only lie there and watch her father in agony. She was about to say something to him when a deafening sound made her cover her ears. It was the sound of grinding and churning gears. The wall of her ranch suddenly was folded under an enormous metal beast. It was a tank. A Brynyan tank. Malon could not believe what she was seeing.

The tank stopped. It was a while before anything happened, but the tank's engine seemed to turn off.

Naomi came outside with an innocently curious look on her face to see what was going on. She screamed when she saw the Brynyan tank that had barreled through their ranch wall, leaving an immense pile of rubble in its wake. She turned to run, but there was a loud crack and a spurt of blood. Naomi collapsed on the ground. Malon had no way of knowing if she was dead.

"NAOMI!" Malon and Talon cried in unison.

The hatch of the tank opened with a loud creak, and a man wearing full Brynyan Empire uniform rose out. Malon turned to see the source of the sound, and he looked straight at her with a devilish sneer.

"Grüße, Frau. Traurig für die Geräusche." Malon could tell that whatever his question was, he did not care.

The Brynyan Empire had begun its invasion of Termina.


	3. The Fortress of Herra

A/N: Well, this update came a little quicker than the last, but not by much. We're sorry for all those who read this that are getting tired of waiting for each chapter. We'll try to update more often.

Again, with the many foreign languages in this story, you always have the choice to go online and type in the translations yourselves, but we will not just give them out. In this chapter, the language being spoken besides English is Latin. Latin is such an awesome-sounding language though that it would be cooler if you didn't know what they were saying ;) plus it's a pretty rough translation, and not perfect. Anyways, on with the chapter! Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 3: The Fortress of Herra**

Link placed his arm on the cold metal of the seat in front of him, steadying himself in preparation for the lurch as the old bus came to a sudden halt. There were a few muffled moans from the unwary who were thrust forward into the seat in front of them as the driver pressed the brake all the way to the floor and brought the bus to a complete stop with a high pitched screech, the brakes strained by the effort.

Most of the bus' occupants stood up when it was stopped, eager to get on their feet again after such a long ride in the cold metal seats as they drove over old, bumpy country roads in dire need of maintenance. Some strange instinct in the back of his mind told Link to stay put, and he remained seated even as nearly everyone else flooded into the aisle, pushing and shoving to get off the accursed bus as fast as they could.

Some of the pressure from the mass of bodies spilled out into Link's seat, and his body was crushed against the window by those who had stumbled back. His face pressed against the glass, Link caught a glimpse of where they were, something few had surprisingly even bothered to take notice of.

They were parked amongst scores of other buses on desolate and rocky ground, several hundred yards away from a massive fortress, or at least what Link imagined a fortress to look like. Large battlements sat atop massive walls many times taller that his house, encircling the entire place. Machine gun emplacements of nearly infinite variety and size bristled from the battlements and the walls themselves. It looked like some poor parody of a building's decay, metal instead of vines consuming the walls.

In the middle was a massive citadel which stretched many thousands of feet into the air and was wide enough that Link could briefly distinguish the outlines of planes standing idle in front of gaping black holes which he knew from common sense were hangars. The entire place seemed to glow brilliantly with a golden light, as if the very stone was blessed by the Goddesses.

Link noticed for the first time a figure moving across the bus lot towards them, his features indistinguishable at such a distance. As he drew nearer, some of those by the windows caught a glimpse of him and hurriedly sat down, staring ahead rigidly.

The bus doors hissed open slowly, the overweight driver finding it somewhat difficult to operate the lever. The man stepped up the stairs, and all those still standing who hadn't noticed him before gawked at him before sitting down in the nearest seat as fast as they could.

He was an intimidating figure, Link noticed. Very tall and broad shouldered, with a perfectly chiseled jaw and massive muscles bulging from his clothes in almost all places. He wore golden combat fatigues and draped over his back was a golden cape that seemed to shine brilliantly. Over his chest was a sash of similar color and luster that bore scores of medals and other marks of commendation. At his side was a ceremonial pistol and sword, both of them encrusted with gold and glittering gems.

But his eyes were his most bold feature. Icy blue and seemingly depthless, they scanned the faces of the men cowering down in the bus seats at his presence as his lips twisted into an amused grin. His eyes spoke of infinite pain and hatred, yet at the same time conveyed nothing at all. It was an eerie effect that made little sense, but unnerved Link and the rest like nothing else ever could.

"Its good to see you're all so eager to get started. If but half of you actually retain that eagerness, you may actually live long enough to see a second engagement. Or maybe you won't, since cockiness has killed more soldiers than those I've had to execute for incompetence, which is no small number I assure you."

He looked around again, placing his hands on his hips as he took a closer look at each of the men. A sadistic grin crossed his features and he seemed to chuckle silently to himself.

"Well what the fuck kind of shit did we troll up this time? Farm boys, eh? Look at all of you! You're nothing but a bunch of inbred slack-jawed morons! Pah! Well, at least there is some hope for you, so long as you're as strong as you are dumb. Now get off this damned bus and form up in single file! Do it now you inbreeds!"

Without another word he turned and stepped off the bus, standing outside next to the door patiently. After a moment of brief hesitation, the men quickly rushed back into the isle and bolted off the bus, both fearful of the hard-eyed commander and grateful to finally get off the bus.

Link found himself pressed amongst the rest wordlessly, still slightly appalled at the commander's blatant disrespect for them, their families, and their way of life. Weren't they going to fight and die for their country? Didn't they deserve at least a little respect for that?

"Well congratulations, inbreeds," shouted the commander. "You've officially proved to me that you're smart enough to actually get in a single, straight line. I am Sergeant Tancred, and you are all worthless scum. And you're mine until I release you, or you get yourself blown to smithereens. Whichever one comes first. Now march!"

Striding off at the head of the line without a backward glance, the sergeant marched towards the fortress, the men following him quickly while they lugged their depressingly small bags of personal effects and necessities behind them.

Link, marching in the middle of the line, glanced around slowly and looked at the scores of buses they were walking by. All around him more men were being unloaded and given similar talks like their own sergeant had given them. Then, they too were set to marching towards the fortress and its massive golden gates as they creaked open slowly to admit the many thousands of new souls inside to learn the arts of war.

-

The air in the cathedral was thick with smoke from the flames, but they were unbothered. They sat rigid in the pews, holding their unlit bronze torches before them with their heads bowed in the semi-darkness of the holy place.

The old cathedral doors creaked loudly as they swung open, their massive frames decorated with colossal golden plates into which were carved holy runes of almost impossible detail. The priest at the end of the long isle that cut through the center of the cathedral stood up, his golden robe shimmering in the weak light of the candles.

_"Adveho ye liberi, in complexo of Sanctus, Beatus, pro an infinitio of sanctus servitus..."_

Through the great doors came a slowly moving procession of eight chanting acolytes, their heads bowed and covered by the hoods of their crimson robes. They carried poles which bore incense burners at the end, which they swung lightly from side to side as they chanted the verse again and again in the deep, foreboding tongue of the ancients.

_"Adveho ye liberi, in complexo of Sanctus, Beatus, pro an infinitio of sanctus servitus..."_

Walking calmly at the center of the acolytes was a tall, broad shouldered man in glittering golden armor, with runes similar to those on the cathedral doors carved into it and filled with a sparkling silver dye. In one hand he carried a long staff, the head carved out of pure gold into the likeness of the holy Triforce. Golden fire danced around the staff, shining brightly within the dimness of the cathedral.

In his other hand, he clutched a massive and beaten book, its cover dyed a brilliant mix of gold and silver. Above the monotonous chant of the acolytes, his voice boomed loudly and deeply, his chant filling the men in the pews with hope and direction, even though they understood only a pathetically meager amount of the words he spoke.

_"Is servitus ut Sanctus, Beatus, vadum forever exsisto remuneror in nex. Liberi of Hyrule , Ego queso ye , temerarius iam lacuna of Sanctus Triforce quod Three."_

Reaching the priest at the end of the isle, the group dispersed, the acolytes moving to stand in silence behind the priest and the other man at the rear of the cathedral, their forms lost in the shadows as they continued swinging their censer-bearers lightly. Taking the book from his breast, the tall man handed it to the priest, who held it high above his head in both hands, where it burst into brilliant golden fire, illuminating the previously dim expanse of the cathedral greatly.

_"In a terra ultra os, divum subluceo aurum, non puteulanus!" _he cried, the words reverberating loudly through the chamber as all the men in the pews looked up in almost perfect synch, their mouths already forming the rest of the prayer.

"There the Triforce's light saves the faithful from the eternal dark, the madness, the thirsting, of the Gods of the shadow. Always will we serve the blessed light of the Holy Triforce and the Three!"

The light emanating from the book faded slowly, again leaving the room in almost total dark. The priest panted heavily, wiping at his forehead with his forearm as he returned the book to the tall man. He took a step forward, looking out in the dim light at the men in the pews.

He motioned behind him to the acolytes, who shuffled quickly towards smoldering wall sconces and lit them with a wave of their hands, bathing the room in a brilliant glow. In the light, the priest and the tall man were fully visible, as was every individual in the pews.

The priest, a wizened old man whose head was completely shaved, looked every bit his obviously immense age as he turned back to the tall man, who stood aside of the large podium that overlooked the entirety of the cathedral from the front of the isle back to the doors.

"Chaplain Mikelus," he began, standing straight and walking slowly towards the podium. "I believe the Three have spoken. They are ready."

Nodding just enough so the motion could be seen, the chaplain stepped behind the podium, resting his enormous, gauntleted hands on it as he looked out at the men in the pews, some of which were almost leaning forward in anticipation.

He smiled to himself. This was a good bunch, he figured. The holy chants and hymns which so emboldened him to take his place as Master Chaplain in the first place had a similar affect on all of them, and they appeared more than eager to embrace the Hyrulean dogma on a whole new level and destroy the enemies of the Goddesses, or die in the attempt.

"Men of Hyrule, I, Master Chaplain Mikelus of the Three, welcome you all to the Fortress of Herra. This is the single most powerful bastion of military power in the world, and it is only right that it stands between the great mountain pass before the beautiful capitol of Hylia. No foe can breach this fortress and thus no foe can harm the capitol. That fact is indisputable." He cleared his throat loudly, taking a few moments to let the information sink into their heads.

"But even so, children of the Goddesses, we cannot sit back idly and watch the world waste away from our walls. This world was made by the divine will of the Goddesses, and this will is manifested as our Holy Triforce. The entire world is governed by its sanctity, and yet there are those who would disrupt that.

"As the children of Hyrule, the holy land where the Goddesses first created man, we must ensure that this sanctity remains intact. The Brynyan Empire has dealt a grievous blow to our allies in Termina and all the lands of the West. For many centuries the kingdoms of the west have existed in mutual harmony with us, and it would be a sad day when any would forsake another in its time of need.

"And so you are here to undergo training for the task that is to come. Four months, my children. In four months time, King Alexander Alaric Hyrule has decreed that we launch a massive invasion of Brynyan occupied lands and drive them into the dust once and for all. Five million Hyrulean souls gave their lives to stop the mad Brynyan Emperor in the Great War nearly fifty years ago. We will give ten times that number if need be, but nothing will stop us from crushing their heathen regime beneath the soles of our soldiers' boots. Beneath your boots, children of Hyrule!

"On this day, we induct you into the ranks of the sacred Hyrulean Guard, so that you may fight as the holy lance of the Goddesses and purge the darkness from the world. On this day, we commence the Ceremony of Induction!" He turned towards the old priest, who stood off to his right, staring ahead into space as if he had heard grown tired of hearing the same speech over and over again. Even Chaplain Mikelus grew weary of it, but it was his sacred duty and so there was nothing to be done about it. "Father Abbot? We will begin the ceremony now."

The priest jumped slightly as his peaceful reverie was shattered. He looked towards the chaplain, a slightly annoyed look on his wrinkled features. A stern glance from the chaplain placated him however, and he motioned for the acolytes who still stood, unnoticed, by the lit sconces, still swinging their censers.

They moved quickly to stand before the podium, and the chaplain placed his large book on the podium before moving to stand in the middle of them, four to either side of him. "With me, men of Hyrule!" he shouted, holding his staff out in front of him in both hands and thrusting the gleaming Triforce of its staffhead towards the ceiling. He bowed his head and closed his eyes as the priest began flipping through the pages of the book.

The men in the pews all followed the chaplain's example without hesitation, amazement at the task they were being given evident on all their faces, and held their unlit torches high above their heads as they closed their eyes, heads angled towards the floor. The priest found the passage he had been searching for and the rustle of turning pages stopped, leaving the room in absolute silence except for the flicker of the flames in the wall sconces.

"_Oh beatus Dea of vetus, praeter illa liberi in vestri fold. Rector lemma ut vestri sanctus telum , quod coegi lemma per enemies' pectus pectoris. Suum mens es tener quod alacer. Operor non lemma inclino. Congelo suum virtus , suum terminatio. Permissum suum fides non falter in coming obscurum. Nos , vestri liberi, queso vos. Tribuo lemma bona of Three. Permissum vestri sanctus incendia exuro!"_

Lifting his hands in the air, he cried out once more, his voice deeply distorted by supernatural forces as a light wind began swirling through the chamber, slowly gaining in strength.

"_Adveho, Sanctus Flamma!"_

The room seemed to explode as a massive burst of powerful wind billowed through it, drowning out the chanting of the chaplain and the acolytes and the cry of the priest. Then, in an instant, it was all over.

The priest let his hands fall back to the podium and he panted heavily as the chaplain's staff began glowing powerfully in red, green, and blue. Pulsing almost madly, the staff head released pent up energy with a dull boom, like that of a massive explosion, and a light burst of air flew from it in all directions.

Tiny flames of red, green, and blue drifted from the center of the staff head and towards the unlit torches of the men in the pews. When they landed on a torch, it sprung into life violently and the man holding it looked up in surprise, some almost dropping their torch.

When all the flames had dispersed and not a single torch remained unlit, the chaplain returned to the podium and the acolytes dispersed behind him along with the priest, still chanting lowly.

"The Ceremony of Induction is complete. Look upon the Holy Flame that burns on your torch. That is a gift from the Goddesses themselves, and it marks the path you shall now take. Know that the ceremony has not changed since ancient times, but its interpretation has slightly. So, with modern thinking as our guide, you are assigned a place in the Hyrulean Guard as follows: Those bearing green fire, the chosen of Farore, take your place in our most glorious infantry corps. May your rifles always aim true. Those bearing red fire, the chosen of Din, take your place in our unstoppable armor columns. May you soon grind the streets of Malvagita beneath your blessed treads. Those bearing blue fire, chosen of Nayru, take your place in our mighty naval fleets. May your ships ferry our forces swiftly and your shells obliterate the enemy before your brethren on land.

"Go now, men of the Hyrulean Guard. Your induction is complete, and soon the enemies of the Three will tremble at your coming." Chaplain Mikelus strode briskly down the aisle, the acolytes and the priest following behind him, no longer chanting. They reached the doors and exited swiftly, leaving the men alone in the dim light of the cathedral.

All of them were confused as to what they were to do next, but many were rather relieved. They now knew their place in the struggle to come, and they were blessed by the Goddesses themselves. How could they possibly fail? Slowly, they began chatting amongst themselves, incredibly thrilled and eager to get started and do the Goddesses work.

All of them, in fact, save one frightened and overwhelmed soul.

Far in the back, in the corner where the light of the sconces could not reach, Link Aires sat transfixed, his body bathed in the green light of his torch.


	4. Captive

**Chapter 4: Captive**

The man standing in the open hatch of the tank craned his neck down into the metal beast and began to scream at his men. "_Hans! Erhalten Sie das Mädchen! __Jetzt!_"

It was a while before anyone else came up. Malon didn't know what to do. There was a chunk of shrapnel in her leg stopping her from getting up and seeing if Naomi was all right. There had been a lot of blood when she had been shot….

Malon refused to let herself think such thoughts. Naomi was going to be okay. She focused her thoughts on what would happen to them, now that their mother was dead and their father lacked the ability to protect them.

Mother… the woman who had educated Malon into what she was today. She was taken from her before she even knew what was happening. It all happened so fast… one minute she was there, the next there was nothing left of her body but her charred, deformed hand. Their barn was gone, along with all the cows that had been in there. Her father's face would be horribly deformed for the rest of his life, if they managed to live much longer, which didn't seem likely.

Malon looked over at him. He was lying on his back, facing the sky. He was writhing in agony, having no way of removing the shrapnel from his face and ending his misery. He couldn't close his mouth or he would damage it even more, with the jagged piece of metal in there.

The same Brynyan officer that had screamed at his men was now stepping out of the hatch, followed by two other tank crew members. One of them went straight for Naomi, who still hadn't moved since Malon had seen her shot. Another officer was coming straight for Malon. She began to panic. She tried to squirm away, but every move of her injured leg was so excruciating that she felt she would black out.

The officer's strides became more brisk, and he was getting ever closer to her. Malon watched helplessly as he bent over and picked her up in a baby's carry. The way it bent her leg caused her to scream loud enough to tear her vocal chords. The officer seemed puzzled at first, but then he saw the shrapnel in her leg. Malon continued to scream. She looked into the officer's eyes as if to beg him to end her misery. All she saw was a cold, black abyss. The officer reached to his hip holster and withdrew his pistol. At first, Malon thought he was going to shoot her. She honestly welcomed the warm embrace of death, but the officer was not that kind. The last thing she remembered was the officer's hand raising up high in the air and then smashing down on her head.

"Hey! I think she's waking up!"

Groaning in pain, Malon came awake to complete darkness. Moments later, she wiped the muck from her eyes and opened them slowly to see the scene before her.

She was lying on her side in the dirt, facing a set of thick metal bars. She was locked away in a cell. She remembered briefly, some important detail of before...

_A terrible rumbling... Screaming... _

Her heart began thundering in her chest and her eyes widened dramatically. Beyond the bars there were more cells, and other things. It looked like an entire compound. Gasping, something else flashed through her mind as her body began to tremble.

_A thunderous explosion... The gore-strewn earth..._

Breathing raggedly, she began to convulse. She scantly noticed the sounds of footsteps around her as she rolled onto her back in her spasms and began to cry out.

"What in Din's name is wrong with the poor lass?" came a gruff voice from somewhere nearby.

_Piercing pain... Gunshots..._

"Is she dieing, daddy?" asked a meek voice.

"I don't know, son," was the helpless reply.

Malon felt her senses dull even further as her vision began to grow cloudy. There was a great deal of mumbling and shuffling of feet around her as her cellmates tried to decide what to do about her.

"The poor girl," came an angelic voice from amidst the jumble of others. "She's been through so much..."

Malon gasped in shock when she felt a warm hand being placed on her forehead. Though her senses were greatly dulled, she could feel almost instantly the warmth that seemed to radiate from the hand. It spread rapidly throughout her body like a fluid stream and almost at once her convulsions stopped.

"Be at ease, young one... You are safe here."

Malon breathed lightly as she felt her heart rate slow back to normal and the mist invading her vision fade away. She blinked heavily and looked around her clearly for the first time. At least six people were standing around her, including the girl kneeling beside her.

They all stared at her blankly, as if unsure what to do next. Sighing heavily, she turned her attention to a large, burly man in ragged overalls. He had a scruffy, unshaven, and pitiful look about him, although it looked as if he had always been like that, instead of becoming that way from his imprisonment.

"W-Where...am I?" asked Malon weakly.

"You are locked up with the rest of us, lass," replied the scruffy man.

"Locked up?" she asked, her voice growing stronger the more scared she became.

"Aye, tis a sad state of affairs for all of us poor folk ere. Thrown inta a cell without any way of knowing why." He sighed heavily and indicated the people around him with a sweeping gesture of his meaty arm. "All of us ere, we've been locked up for life, ya see. An none o' us has any good idea as ta why we might deserve such a fate."

At this, Malon looked crestfallen. She still didn't know exactly where she was, but she knew now that she was not in a friendly place. "What..What's going to happen to me...?" she asked.

"Well, that all depends. More likely than not, you'll end up working hard labor like the rest of us in the factories and the workshops. Bloody lovely places they are, I can tell you that right now..." A new figure, a tall skinny man with greasy black hair and a haggard look about him, walked over and stood next to the large man. "Of course, they may also just send you to the showers or the bloody furnaces."

At Malon's questioning look, she noticed the large man make a cutting motion across his throat with his thumb. Her eyes widened in shock when she realized what he meant. "Y-You mean they exterminate us!?" she cried weakly.

"Ssh! Quiet down there, lassie! There's no need ta be screamin an makin a big fuss over somethin that don't concern ye!" hissed the large man as he moved to cover her mouth, or rather most of her face, with his bear like hand. "Forgive me for saying so, but the damned officers round ere would much rather take a poor young lass like yourself as their pet. You've no need ta worry bout them damned showers and whatnot. They hardly use em unless you're completely useless to them."

Breathing deeply, Malon managed to calm herself and slowly pushed away his hands from her face. Sighing loudly, she turned her attention to the others. "So this is a prison camp then? I've read about these horrible places in books about the Great War, but...to actually be in one? I don't like the feeling..."

"We all know how you feel. Bloody Brynyans..."

"Brynyans?" asked Malon upon hearing the tall man's remark. "Then...that means...they invaded Termina. That was who attacked my family's ranch...the Brynyan Empire..."

"So they invaded Termina now? Interesting. What could Brynya possibly be up to?" said a voice behind her simply. Turning around to get a look at the speaker, Malon found herself faced by a young man with dark blue hair and a handsome and almost perfectly made face. Even in her strange predicament and surrounded by complete strangers, Malon couldn't help but feel her heart flutter a little but when he returned her gaze for a moment.

"It doesn't really matter, Ike. We're prisoners, rotting in a bloody prison camp in Goddesses know what former sovereign state. Anyway," said the greasy haired man as he turned to Malon, "Sorry for ignoring you and all that. You must have been through one Hell of an ordeal. I'm Randulf, from Seleucia."

"I'm...I'm Malon, from Termina," she said softly as she took his proffered hand and shook it weakly.

"My dour friend over here is Ike. He's from Sumeria, or what was Sumeria. From what we've gathered, he's all pissy because the Brynyans killed his fiancé. Nasty stuff. I'd be pissy too, I suppose." Ike made a very rude gesture to Randulf when his back turned and Malon gasped in shock, but he paid her no heed.

"That guy, at least I think its a human and not some wild animal, is our northern friend Svnier. He looks scary, but I think he's just like that because he hasn't had any mead in so long. He's got a good heart though." Malon smiled weakly when the bear of a man gave them a crooked grin, revealing a mouth full of horribly decayed teeth. "That's Sothe over there, from Termina, with his daughter Mist. The kid's alright, but Sothe's all pissed because he lost his wife when the Brynyans steamrolled his house with a bloody tank. Blimey, but that must have been a sight!"

Malon felt herself growing increasingly annoyed at Randulf's extremely cynical and insensitive attitude towards the other prisoners. From the sound of things they had all lost something dear to them, and they were all hurting from it. But he appeared to mock them in their grief. How could someone be so cold, she wondered?

"And here is our very own little miracle worker. She healed you well enough, though she was hesitant to use so much of her power right then and there until you were just about dead. Keep all that healing business hush hush though, mmkay? We'd rather not have her taken off to be experimented on when she's saved most of us from death multiple times. In any case, her name's Beth."

The young girl rose to her feet and stood a head shorter than Malon. This surprised Malon, as she herself was only a few inches over five feet. "Hello...I'm Beth, like Randulf said."

"See? Told you she was Beth. Anyway, that's our little gang here. There are some prisoners in other cells right next to ours and such, but anyone dumb enough to get near the bars and thus communicate with them is asking to get singled out by the guards and, well, be taught a _lesson_, as the bloody Brynyans put it."

"So," began Malon meekly as Randulf wandered of to sit down beside a small fire which Malon only just realized was there, "What happens now?" Walking over to the fire, Malon was glad for the warmth and the light it provided. She suddenly realized then, that it was pitch black, likely the middle of the night. Chiding herself for her blindness, she inched closer to the flames as Sothe spoke in a trembling voice with a light Termanian accent. It sounded as if he may burst into tears at any moment, and given his experience and that Brynya had likely only recently attacked Termina thus placing him here, she understood why.

"What do we do? Why, we just do what they tell us to do and hope to the Goddesses that we survive. We can only hope that by some divine grace the Brynyans are defeated and we can return home... Until then, just do whatever it is you need to do to survive, Malon. Always remember that, as well as that we're here for you, because we're all we got."

She made no response to his disheartening words, for none was needed. Watching the flames idly eat away at the pitiful pile of twigs and branches, she remembered something Svnier had said earlier.

"Svnier?"

"Yes, Malon?"

"What did you mean when you said, they'd rather make me their 'pet'?"

His expression grim for a few moments, Svnier mouth twisted into an awkward grin quickly as he looked across the campfire at her. "Do not worry about that, Malon. They tried to do it to sweet little Beth, but me and Gnarly ripped them to pieces. If they try it to you, I will gladly do the same thing again."

"Gnarly?" she asked.

"His brother," said Ike simply. "They were locked up here together originally, for almost three years. After the rest of us, except for Sothe and Mist, got here, some dumb guard thought he'd take a fancy to being a pedophile and advancing on Beth. He almost succeeded too, but Gnarly and Svnier killed him with their bare hands, and several other guards too. Somehow, Gnarly got all the blame and Svnier was let off with only a large branding on his back as punishment. Gnarly was...Goddesses help me, but I know not what they did with that poor man, but his screams echoed throughout the entire camp for days on end before they finally killed him, or he just died at last." Ike sighed sadly and stared into the flames blankly, shuddering lightly as if trying to forget resurfaced memories.

"The bastards," snarled Svnier, looking almost like the feral beast Randulf had called him. "I will destroy them all someday. I can feel it in my bones, that one day, somehow I'm going to get out of here, and when that day comes I will bring this place down stone my stone, soldier by soldier if I have to! No matter what, I will see it destroyed, and then I will do the same thing to the entire damned Brynyan Empire! By the blood of Valhalla's finest I will not be denied vengeance!" Seething, almost frothing madly with rage, Sothe and Ike scrambled to restrain him. Both were hardened, powerful men, but they only barely managed to push him back down in his seat.

Malon trembled when she beheld Svnier next, changed back to his gentle, almost goofy demeanor. His awkward northern accent was back and he had a jolly twinkle in his eye.

"Sorry bout that there outburst, lassie," he said sadly. "Tis the warrior's blood that pumps in me veins. The might of ancient heroes within me calls for release in glorious combat. Something I cannot do, for the days o great heroes an legends are over. Tis all explosions an tanks an machine guns now..." Sighing sadly, he looked up from the flames and stared Malon right in the eye. "Irregardless young missy, I will gladly accept my brother's fate and join him in the Sacred Halls if it means protecting you from these damnable Brynyans and their perversions!"

Smiling weakly, Malon nodded her thanks.

-

It wasn't long until everyone was asleep, whether by normal routine or from exhaustion caused by all the excitement, it was hard to tell. Malon however, could not sleep. She laid awake and watched in the weak glow of the fire the others as they slept.

Sothe clutched his daughter close to him tightly as he shivered from the cold. Mist however, seemed perfectly comfortable and content in the warm embrace of her selfless father. Ike, nearby, found some comfort in the tattered remnants of a thick traveling cloak, which he shared with Beth as a makeshift sleeping bag. Rolled up in its folds, they were kept from freezing more by one another's body heat than by the ragged fabric.

Randulf slept back to back with Svnier, neither of them seeming to be feeling any negative affects of the cold. Then again, she figured both of them did come from rather frigid regions. As for herself, she found she was wearing rather warm clothes and was mostly unaffected by the cold, though the occasional breeze did sting her face and neck.

Lying on her side as close to the dying embers as possible, she contemplated the events that had brought her to this place. Everything was mostly just one giant haze, but here and there she could make something out. A name, a face, an object. They all seemed meaningless.

Then, she suddenly had a sharp pain in her ankle right. Lifting up her skirt and rolling down her sock to see what was causing the pain, she saw a large and ugly scar that went cleanly up and down her ankle. She breathed in sharply when she beheld this, but almost cried out when a sudden onslaught of mental imagery spilled out before her.

She couldn't make out anything clearly, for it just to complicated and unorganized. Her mind was in absolute chaos. The shock and stress of so much suddenly coming to bear on her mind quickly knocked her out.


	5. Hyrule Unleashed

**Chapter 5: Hyrule Unleashed**

A/N: What?! What's this?! Two updates in one weekend?! No way! We are sure we have shocked you all with this. Chapter 6 is already well underway and should be posted soon. Stay tuned! Now, enjoy.

* * *

"Goddesses… How accurate would these reports be? Should we trust them at all?" asked Supreme Lord Militant Draenor, a glint of worry in his eye as he scanned over the papers in his hand again. 

"Well sir, we really aren't quite sure what to make of them. The source isn't completely reliable for one, though much of our high level intelligence seems to coincide with and thus confirm what we have here," explained Chaplain Mikelus.

Draenor stood from his ornate chair and set the papers on his desk, turning around to look out the large windows behind him, which made up the entire wall. Outside, the massive and mighty fortress of Herra worked like a well-oiled machine as all its inhabitants went about their daily routines.

He noticed small clusters of people running laps around the parade ground in the center of the fortress as the massive barrels of the 'Tri-guns' cast an intimidating shadow over them. New recruits in training. New wheat for the scythes of war.

"Mikelus," he said sadly as he watched them, "If these reports turn out to be true, then… will we be forced to…"

"Yes. Yes, we will, lord militant," said Mikelus uneasily. He watched with hands clasped behind his back as Draenor continued to watch the tiny people in the fortress below go about their business.

"It's too soon," sighed Draenor. "To damn soon! It was only three months ago we sent out the order to initiate the conscription. The Induction Ceremony could not have been much more than two months ago. Mikelus…"

"Yes my lord, I understand. Let us pray that these reports are false, lest we are forced to deploy several million men before their training is even half finished. The next wave of reports should be coming in shortly."

As if on cue, the door opened slowly and a young woman stepped inside, her long blonde hair and surprisingly sensuous clothing coming as a surprise to Mikelus. Hands clasped behind her back shyly, she bowed respectfully to Mikelus and Draenor.

"Chaplain Mikelus sir," she said, before focusing on Draenor. "Lord Militant, you have an incoming call from Commander Geferory. He says he has urgent information for you."

"Thank you, Sherry," said Draenor as he reached for the phone and waved her out of the room. She bowed once more and slipped out quickly, shutting the door tightly behind her.

"Such a well mannered secretary, Draenor. Young, too," said a smiling Mikelus as he walked up to the side of Draenor's desk.

"Quiet, Mikelus."

Draenor held the phone to his ear and chewed his lip as he waited to hear Geferory's voice on the line. He was slowly growing impatient when there was a sudden blare of static and the commander's voice came in broken and distorted.

"Lord Milit…. Comman…rory… The Brynyans! They've invaded… dead every… smoke and… The city is… dieing. My forces… hold them off. I request immediate…forcement! I…peat, Dragon….st…has been…vaded. Hyru…orces… not enough to stop them!"

His face pale, Draenor roared into the phone, "Damn it, Geferory! Get a hold on yourself! The Brynyans have invaded Dragon Roost Isle? Is that what you're trying to tell me?"

"…sir!"

"I will send what forces I can, but what about the fleet? Why didn't they stop this!?"

"…king fleet is sinking…bottom of the fuc…g sea! The Brynyan fleet…moving to Hyrule… will destroy…entire navy with one blow! AHH!" The sound of gunfire cut off everything else and static overwhelmed the line for a couple seconds.

"Commander!" screamed Draenor. "Are you in direct combat!?"

"I have no… ing…oice, sir! They're…everyw…re! They're fu…ing fanatics!"

"Commander! Do not take that tone with me!" roared Draenor as gunfire overwhelmed the line for a few moments again.

"Sir, fuck you!" Just…the damn navy… sink the…Brynyans before they…wipe out our ships!" The line was completely cut off by sporadic gunfire and Draenor slammed the phone back on the receiver.

"Mikelus!"

"Sir?"

"Mobilize all available forces. Leave the Gleaming Legions behind to stand guard over Herra and the capitol. All others march for the coast."

"Sir…Even the conscripts?"

"The Brynyans want a war? I shall give them a war. With the authority granted to me by the Goddesses and the Royal Family, I shall sea them ground into the dirt. We shall not just take back Dragon Roost, we shall go ahead with our plan to liberate Termina at once!"

"But their training is nowhere near completion! It would be like marching them into a barrage from the Tri-guns!"

"DO IT MIKELUS! The Goddesses will give them all the strength they need!"

"Sir!" saluted Mikelus uneasily. In a fashion almost like that of a frightened and confused child, Mikelus ran from the room as Draenor's frustration erupted into a fury beyond his control. With a roar, he grabbed his desk and hurled it towards the windows. With a thunderous crash it went through and fell to earth with a shower of razor sharp and glimmering shards.

Panting heavily, Draenor fell to his knees and wept. "Why must I so many men die… damn it!" He pulled a small necklace from under his uniform and held it in his palm, looking at it longingly. It was a small piece of jade, carved into the shape of the Triforce.

"Father…give me strength…"

-

Link collapsed on his bed, his body and tan training fatigues covered in sweat. Around him the other men of his company fell on their beds in exhaustion, completely wiped out from their rigorous and seemingly endless training.

Day in and day out it was the same thing. They would wake at ungodly hours of the morning, run for miles around the fortress, then head to the parade ground and do any number of numerous aerobic exercises, depending on Sergeant Tancred's mood.

The very thought of the partially insane drill sergeant was enough to make any of the men in the company shudder and weep. He was an imposing and violent figure, who was never disinclined to beat one of them half to death to prove a point to the rest. Luckily, at least for him, Link had never been unfortunate enough to receive one of his vicious punishments.

That day though, had been particularly brutal. Tancred had insisted they do sit-ups until they, as he put it, "shit themselves." Fortunately, no one actually did, but that wasn't because of the sergeants mercy. If he actually had any to begin with. No, the only reason Link was not doing his third increment of a thousand sit-ups was because Tancred, along with all the other officers apparently, had been called to some great briefing by the Supreme Chaplain, Mikelus.

Whatever they were talking about, Link found he didn't really care. He was too concerned with trying not to move. Even the slightest movement would send waves of agony coursing through his abdomen and the rest of his body. While he wasn't a doctor, something told him the human body just wasn't meant to do the ten thousand sit-ups Sergeant Tancred had demanded of them. Unfortunately, the mad sergeant most certainly would have gotten every last one out of each of them, even if it took them the entire day.

Link gave a silent prayer of thanks to the Goddesses. Death by sit-ups was certainly not how he had imagined he would go when he had first gotten wind of his conscription.

"Psst! Link!"

Looking to his left, Link saw some of the members of his ten man squad waving to him from the neighboring bed where they sitting playing some form of card game. He waved back while trying to hide his amazement that they could possibly be enjoying themselves, let alone sitting.

"Come over here and join us, why don't you? Better than lying there in agony, wouldn't you agree?" asked one, a young man with unkempt red hair.

"I feel like I was run over by a few hundred combines at the moment, Talo. I'd rather avoid any kind of movement," said Link tiredly. He shooed them away with his hands and rolled over on his stomach, flinching when he realized it had been a dumb idea.

"Well ok… You're loss, Link!"

Several minutes passed, with the barracks remaining in a relatively silent state of calm. Save for the random snickering of Talo and his group. Every time Link felt he was finally about to drift off to sleep, they would burst into a fit of almost girlish giggling.

'_One more time…Do it once more, I dare you…'_

"…haha! hehe…!"

'_Goddesses…'_

Jumping up from his bed, he ran over to Talo and his group and grabbed the nearest one by the shoulders and shook them.

"Would you be quiet!?" he hissed.

"L-Lemme go, Link! C'mon!"

Realizing who he had seized, Link released his grip on their shoulders and took a step back. "Sorry, Colin…"

"That was kind of unexpected, Link. We have to start over now, because a certain someone messed up the cards." Talo elbowed the speaker, a young man of short stature with a baby face and a bald head.

"C'mon now Malo, no need to be so rude. Well, why not join our game now Link, since you're already up?" asked Talo.

Looking back to his bed and then at the group sitting on the bed playing cards in a fashion that spoke deeply of an innocence each of them would soon be losing, Link smiled and climbed on the bed, the pain in his abdomen forgotten, and sat down next to Colin.

The young man nodded at Link and scooted over to make room for him. Talo began shuffling the cards as Link asked, "So what are we playing?"

"Hmm…blackjack I guess. We can't really play poker without some kind of chips or anything. So yea, blackjack," said Talo as he began handing out cards.

Unfortunately, none of them ever got the chance to play their game. Just as they were about to begin, the doors of the barracks seemed to explode open as Sergeant Tancred marched in wearing his full battle dress of armor and weapons.

"Oh, great…" muttered Talo as he threw his cards absently into the air, seeing that they weren't going to be able to play anyway.

"Listen up, ladies! I've got some very important announcements to make!" Walking slowly down the isle between the beds, hands clasped behind his back, he glared at each soldier in turn as he passed them.

"For starters, your training is now over. A damn shame, too. I was so looking forward to squeezing another seven thousand sit-ups out of all of you." At this news a wave of excitement rippled silently through the soldiers. Their glum expressions turned to smiles and some even high-fived silently. Some of the more cautious ones were perplexed by this more than they were pleased.

"However, that's only half of it. Supreme Lord Militant Draenor, in his infinite and divine wisdom, has ordered all forces to depart immediately. That's right ladies, we're going to Termina and we're going to tear the Brynyans a new six-pack of assholes!"

Instantly the excitement died and dread settled on every soldier's shoulders. They were leaving so soon. Did the commanders actually think they were ready for battle when their training was not even half finished?

Leaving the men of his company to ponder the breaking news, Tancred turned back to them when he reached the door. "I meant immediately as in, immediately, you damn hayseeds! I want you all assembled and fully prepared for departure on the parade ground in ten minutes!" Slamming the door behind him, a collective moan of despair went up from the entire company after he had gone.

"Well this is just great," said Talo as he slipped off the bed and pulled the trunk out from underneath it. "He nearly kills us with exercise, and now he's going to try and get us killed with bullets and grenades and all that! The man's a freaking psychopath!"

The others murmured their agreement as they slipped off the bed and went to gather their own things from their trunks. Link sighed deeply as he opened his, pulling out his meager belongings.

His green combat fatigues, a few extra pairs of socks, his bayonet, his helmet, the Codex Sacro Parcae, his utility belt and a basic toolset, a basic first aid pack, and an ammo pack to carry rounds when he was issued them. Last of all, at the bottom underneath everything else, was his rifle.

With reverent care he took the M1 Garrand from the trunk and placed it easily on the bed. He rested his hand on the stock and felt almost at ease when he recalled the Rifleman's Creed.

"This is my rifle. There are many like it, but this one is mine." As he stood and begin to change out of his training fatigues and into his combat ones, he continued to recite the verse quietly to himself. "My rifle is my best friend. It is my life. I must master it as I must master my life. Without me, my rifle is useless. Without my rifle, I am useless. I must fire my rifle true. I must-"

"Hurry up, Link!"

Looking up, Link saw Colin motioning for him to finish up quickly. Glancing around him, he saw that almost everyone else was already out. Cursing under his breath, he quickly put on all of his gear, picked up what he had to, and ran for the doors after Colin.

-

The sky was a pale gray, overcast and dismal. Dark clouds loomed on the southern horizon, and the distant rumble of thunder and the flashes of lightning marked the coming of a storm.

But there could be no pause. Nothing could halt their preparations. Time was all too important now. It was something they had little of, and if squandered they would lose far more than they could afford to.

The massive bulk of the Tri-guns creaked and moaned like the rumbling of a great mountain, a volcano belching its contents out unto the earth. They angled into the sky, casting a great shadow over the landscape for miles, and fired.

The entire fortress shook with a ferocity that seemed to almost shatter it. The noise alone was enough to kill those who were not protected by the litanies and charms of the Goddesses.

Into the dismal sky, the three shells sailed faster than any eye could follow. They were bound for distant lands, to strike at targets which likely would have moved by the time they reached their coordinates.

"I really don't think it will do much good, Lord Militant. Bombardments of such range have never been attempted in military action before. The targets will have been long gone by the time the shells arrive."

"Mikelus, it doesn't matter. Commander Geferory assured me that that part of the island is irreversibly lost to the Brynyans until we arrive with reinforcements for him. So, blowing a few thousand of their soldiers and vehicles to pieces of flesh and metal really doesn't matter all that much, now does it?"

The chaplain smiled weakly and nodded his understanding. Turning around, he looked out onto the parade ground from the high balcony they were standing on. Half a million soldiers were packed into the space, and four million more filled every other available space that was open to the balcony.

For all their numbers, they were silent. Completely. Mikelus smiled and thanked the Goddesses that their officers were so competent.

"Draenor, I do not mean to be rude, but do you really think that me or you addressing them could possibly put this in perspective for them to understand? How can we tell them we're basically sending them to a slaughter most of them won't make it out of and still whip them into the fanatical frenzy we need them for them to stand a chance?"

Draenor smiled broadly at Mikelus as he rubbed the hilt of his ceremonial sword absently. "You are right, my friend, when you say that neither of us commands enough respect amongst the troops for our words to have the desired affect upon them." He chuckled and walked towards the door which led back to the tower's cathedral. "However, there is one who can. One who was more than willing to rush here with all due haste to help us see off so many good men…forever." He almost choked on the final word, but recovered quickly and opened the doors.

As soon as they were open, a young woman walked in flanked by men in gleaming golden ceremonial armor with full faced helms which revealed only their mouths. They each carried a sword at their side, obviously for little more than decoration, and a BAR semi-automatic rifle, which was encrusted in gold just like their armor.

The woman however, looked like a far more gentle figure. Her long blonde hair seemed to glow even in the dreariness of the day, and her vibrant blue eyes sparkled brilliantly with youth and vigor. Her face was made up as any noble woman's would be, but it was not over done. It was quite attractive in a high society way. She was garbed in a simple purple dress which wrapped around her figure tightly, and over this she wore a long and elegant white jacket lined with fur. Mikelus observed she was clutching it tightly around herself, and she was shivering quite profusely.

Funny, he thought it was only around sixty degrees. Then, when he saw her headdress, a tiara with a gleaming, gold-wrought Triforce set into it, he knew why. This was the Princess Zelda of the royal family. Spending so much time in the luxury of the palace had obviously made her more than a little stuffy and used to constantly high temperatures.

"Princess Zelda," said Draenor and Mikelus together as they went on one knee and bowed their heads before her.

"Rise," she said as she removed her coat and handed it to one of her guards. "Lord Militant Draenor, my father speaks highly of you," she said. "It is an honor to be here and speak to the troops as they prepare to repay Brynya in full for their outrages against Termina and Dragon Roost Isle."

Mikelus was surprised. She wasn't nearly as stuffy and high-strung as he had thought she would be. Instead, she appeared surprisingly in touch with the world and aware of things, despite living a life of luxury in the royal palace. The making of a fine leader, he noted. It made him proud indeed to see Hyrule was in good hands when their king stepped down in the future.

"Yes, your highness," said Draenor as he stood. "It is a pleasure to have you. The respect the troops have for you will let you touch them in ways myself and Supreme Chaplain Mikelus here would never be able to."

Zelda looked surprised when he said this and turned to Mikelus. "You are the Supreme Chaplain?"

He nodded.

"Then surely you do not need me? Such a prominent figure as yourself should be more than enough to inspire them as they go to war."

"I would like to think so, Your Highness, but that is not the case. I am a student of war first and foremost. I can inspire men to incredible feats of battle field heroics, but to explain to them the full scope of why they are fighting and why they will be dieing? I cannot do that. Not in the way that you will be able to, at least," explained Mikelus.

"I see," said Zelda. Pursing her lips, she looked ready to say something more than shook her head and giggled quietly. "Well, ok Chaplain. I will get to the speech if that's what you all want so bad."

"Do you have something prepared, Your Highness?" asked Draenor.

"No, I think this will be more effective if I tell them what I really feel. As their princess and future queen, I owe them that, at least. Besides, I have read over your report of the situation multiple times. I think I will be very informative."

"Very well, Your Highness. You may begin whenever you wish to."

"Thank you, Lord Militant Draenor."

Walking out onto the balcony in plain sight, the masses of soldiers below began to murmur excitedly when they saw their princess high above.

"Soldiers of Hyrule, hear me now! You are mighty, courageous men for accepting the task your country has appointed to you! To do what you are about to do is not something anyone can do. It takes bravery and perseverance, something I am sure all of you have! I come to you now, to tell you why you have been called upon so much sooner than you should have. The Brynyan Empire, that wicked country of heathen dogs across the great sea, have invaded not just our allies in Termina as you must all surely know, but they have also attacked Dragon Roost Isle! They have attacked and killed Hyruleans on Hyrulean soil!"

At this, there was a great cry of outrage from the crowd. They would make the Brynyans pay dearly!

"Even now, their ships come to destroy our navy and cripple us! But we will not take this lying down! We shall bring Brynya down with everything we have! The Goddesses shall send you their blessings of wisdom, power, and courage and give you the strength to fight even as you despair! Soldiers, listen to me now! You fight not just for glory and honor, and to liberate our brethren in Termina, but to avenge your brother and sister Hyruleans! Those who have fallen to the Brynyans shall be avenged by your steady aim as you put them in your crosshairs!"

By now, the crowd was chanting 'Hyrule' over and over again so loudly that it was almost more deafening than the Tri-guns. Zelda smiled when she saw her words were having such a profound effect on the men below.

"So as you enter the shadow of the valley of death, do not be afraid. Your comrades will stand along side you, shoulder to shoulder, and you will win. The Goddesses themselves will watch over each and every one of you, and you will not fail. Many of you will die, but do not despair. Your deaths will have not been in vain, for you shall join the Goddesses in the heavens and continue to give your comrades your strength even in death. Go now, soldiers of Hyrule! March forth, for Hyrule and a better world tomorrow!"

* * *

A/N: How was it? Let us know! Review! NOW! 


	6. Emerald Eyes

**Chapter 6: Emerald Eyes**

"_Haha, hörst du diese Scheisse?_"

"_Ja! Der Kaiser sagt, wir werden Hyrule zu zerstören, und er führt uns in der verrückten Bemühung!_"

"_Hail Kaiser Dietfreid Arglist!_"

"_HAIL!_"

Ike sat uneasily, watching the guards through the bars of the open air cell with narrowed eyes. He sighed, crossing his arms and bowing his head in contemplation as the raucous laughter reverberated through the freezing night air. Shivering, he looked behind him, where the others were sleeping peacefully by the smoldering ruins of their miserable camp fire. They shuddered in the cold air pitifully as another gust of wind swept through the prison yard.

"_Hahah! Derrik du Idiot! Du bist ab deine Esel getrunken! _"

There was a loud commotion outside the cell as one of the guards hopped around like an idiot, singing some random words in a thick Brynyan accent heavily garbled by his obvious intoxication. From what little Brynyan he knew, Ike understood that the man in question was either completely drunk and barely functioning, or he was one of the most bumbling morons in the world.

"_Oh, ich sagte mir, Frau eines Tages hic uh ... zurecht und greifen a hic mir ein Bier! BIER! Oh, ich liebe es könnte hic ich leben, ich könnte es in ihm schwimmen hic konnte ich ... ich könnte hic sterben!_"

Watching him dance around the campfire and then fall flat on his face, Ike shook his head in disgust. The other guards roared with laughter and urged him to get up and do it again, which he looked more than eager to do as he hoisted himself to his feet groggily. One of the others threw him a bottle, and he caught it clumsily and uncorked it.

Tilting his head back, he missed his mouth the first two tries and drenched his front before finally latching onto it. He drank deeply and continued to lean backward as he drank. Further and further he went, and Ike grimaced at his sheer stupidity. The other guards began chanting as their companion continued.

"_Trinken Derrik, trinken! Trinken Derrik, trinken! Trinken Derrik, trinken!_"

Suddenly, he stopped, leaning back almost impossibly far without falling, and threw the bottle into the fire, where it exploded in a bright flash of light and fire which illuminated the grounds of the prison camp for a brief moment. The other guards had been floored by it, though the drunken one responsible somehow remained standing.

"Hahahaha!"

They all burst out laughing suddenly, and the drunk one fell over, hitting the ground considerably hard. Ike again shook his head in disgust as he watched the idiot guards celebrating something. A victory over Termina seemed the most likely bet, he figured. Even though he had witnessed firsthand what they could do, he could still hardly believe what the Brynyans had apparently accomplished in such little time. He balled his fists in anger as he watched the men laughing and joking so casually just outside his cell. _The bastards_, he thought. A red mist began to cloud his vision as his heart beat faster and his breathing grew heavy.

He managed to calm himself as he heard footsteps behind him. He did not turn to look who it was, instead remaining with his gaze fixated on the Brynyans he so longed to strangle.

"Ike?"

He turned to address his new companion. He was surprised to see it was the new prisoner, Malon, wrapped in a tattered and thoroughly soiled blanket as safeguard against the cold. Nodding curtly at her and flashing her a forced smile, he returned to staring stone-faced at the guards. She stood awkwardly for a few moments, before sitting down next to him. Rather close to him, he noted.

Glancing over at her, he noticed she pulled her knees to her chest and rested her head on them, staring sadly into the empty space ahead. Her mouth twitched at the corners, as if she was dying to open up and ask him something. He turned away, ignoring her. She did come off as a little odd, he thought. Clearly a country girl, she seemed like she'd be far more comfortable in the company of a man like Sothe or Svnier.

Instead however, she was sitting next to him, mumbling almost inaudibly some private words to herself. Maybe she was lonely? Yes, he thought, that would make sense. She was frightened and alone in this world now, barely here for a month and having seen things no person should see even once, let alone have a notion of. She couldn't sleep, and he, being the only other one awake, came off as a radiator of security and comfort.

Him, protecting someone. He laughed bitterly at the thought.

She looked over at him, disturbed from her private musings by his less than warm laugh. He turned to look at her as well, finding himself suddenly transfixed by her gaze. Emerald eyes stared back into his own chocolate brown, piercing deep into his soul. He felt his heart hammer against his chest and he gasped, almost falling over in shock.

"W-What's wrong? D-Did I offend you...Sir Ike?" she asked, looking at him with a questioning look. He stared back, stunned for a few moments by her eyes. They were the deepest blue, like the depths of the Great Sea.

"Sorry," he muttered, righting himself and shaking his head. There were a few awkward moments of silence, during which Malon seemed to occupy herself entirely with working up the courage to ask him a question. Trying to forget the piercing gaze of the emerald eyes, he watched, half amused.

"Should I call you Sir Ike?" she asked finally.

"No...you would have before, but now..."

"You're as downtrodden as the rest of us..." finished Malon sadly. Ike nodded slowly in agreement. The prison camp was suddenly illuminated by flashes of light at random moments, following by howling laughter. Ike shook his head in distaste as the guards toyed with taping an empty shot glass over a full one and throwing them into the fire.

"Idiots...throw yourselves in the fire and be done with it!" he hissed. Malon stifled a small giggle, but it did not go unnoticed by Ike. "Hey, so you can express joy."

"Well it's not as if any of you ever smile or laugh either," she said, frowning.

"True, but...ah, never mind."

There was yet another long period of awkward silence between the two, broken only by the snoring of their cellmates and the whooping of the guards. During one of the flashes created by the guards, Ike caught a brief glimpse of Malon's chest which, due to her tattered clothing was not covered up to well. He shook his head and turned away quickly, but stopped when he caught a glimpse of turquoise shining in the light from the corner of his eye.

"What is that?" he asked, pointing towards it while trying to avoid actually looking towards her chest.

"Oh, this? This is a necklace my grandfather gave to me. Thank goodness those dirty Brynyans didn't find it," she said, pulling it out of her shirt and showing him. "He loved the sea," she explained. "Loved everything about it. He even went on an expedition to the Jade Sea one time, many years ago before the Great War. And before he built my family's farm."

Ike's eyes lit up and he turned to Malon quickly. "The Jade Sea? Really? This is actually from the Jade Sea?"

She nodded.

"Why...this is very high quality, Malon. I'm amazed your grandfather would have been to get his hands on this all the way back then. This kind of quality jade is hugely expensive today, but back then it was nearly priceless."

"Really?" she asked, aghast. He nodded without turning to her as he poured over the necklace. "I had no idea..."

"Hmm...carved to resemble the Triforce, I see. Or is it just supposed to be one piece? The whole thing or just one third of it? Odd... Perhaps it signifies the transcendence of the Triforce through eternity?" he suggested with a grin.

Malon just stared, dumbfounded. "You seem to know more about my necklace than I do... More about jewelry than I do, for that matter." She paused to stifle a giggle, obviously at the thought of Ike in tons of jewelry, which caused him to scowl briefly. "What are you, some kind of Sumerian Lord?"

Silence.

"I...was," he said bluntly, handing her necklace back to her blankly. Malon realized her folly too late as Ike stood up and walked away towards the campfire.

Left standing alone in the cold, holding her necklace in her open palm, Malon watched him lay down by the fire and wrap a blanket around himself slowly. "I'm sorry," she said softly, putting her necklace back on and walking back towards the fire.

* * *

_The distant rumbling of the waves against the rocks, the cool morning breeze that wafted in through the open window and brought the scent of the sea with it. The cawing of the gulls as they flew high above, and the distant laughter of men, women, and children. Most of all though, was the feeling he had when he first awoke, his body tangled together with hers in the sheets from the previous night, the glimmer of a thin layer of sweat covering his body and hers. _

_He sighed contently as woke to another day. Another day of bliss, passion, and peace in a true paradise on earth. His bleary eyes took in the room around him for the umpteenth time. The walls were a rich tropical wood colored white, as was all the furniture. Oil paintings of pristine beaches, wonderful sunsets, lush prairies, animals, and boats hung on the walls, their frames glimmering silver and gold. Displays of exotic and beautiful flowers or almost every color dotted the room. _

_A door on the far side of the room led away to a pristine washroom, while to the left was another which lead into the rest of the manor. To the right however was a clear sliding door, opened completely to the small balcony outside. The curtains hanging over it were buffeted by the breeze which blew gently into the room. Again he reveled in the wondrous breeze, inhaling deeply the scent it carried; the open ocean. Nothing could put him more at ease, he thought. Except perhaps..._

_...her._

_He rolled over to face her, smiling warmly as he beheld her sleeping face. Beautiful and captivating beyond imagination, her long, green, silken locks were sprawled all around her, framing her head as she breathed lightly. A stray strand of hair hung before her face, right in front of her mouth, and he pushed it behind her ear. _

_She mumbled something softly after this, and he wrapped a muscular arm around her slender frame. She stirred, but did not wake, instead exhaling deeply as if sighing in contentment. A small smile tugged at her lips as she slept, no doubt dreaming of their future. He smiled to himself as he ran his hand lovingly up and down the small of her back slowly. _

_Her face was the absolute epitome of regal beauty, he thought. No feature was to blunt or hard. Everything was soft and slightly angular. Her skin was not fair, but instead it was healthily tanned from a life of living on the Sumerian shore. He sighed as he ran his hand all the way down her back to let it rest on her buttocks, firm from swimming almost every day ever since she first was able. He smiled to himself and pulled her close to him slowly so as not to wake her. _

_Relishing the feeling of her breasts pressed against him, he remained that way with her for several minutes before the noise of the gulls outside began to increase as more took wing in the hunt for food. Kissing her softly on the forehead, then the lips, he let her go and rolled away to the side of the bed, where he sat up and rested his feet on the ground. Stretching his arms above his head, he cracked his back and got up slowly. _

_Walking across the floor towards the open sliding door, he stepped out onto the balcony and felt the full strength of the sea breeze hit him as the roaring off the waves suddenly became louder. He leaned on the railing, looking out at the sprawling white sand beaches below. Men, women, and children ran around and played on them, nothing but little specks to him from the balcony. _

_Beyond all that, was the Great Sea itself. The rolling waves were mesmerizing to him, and he felt his gaze ensnared by their majesty. Ships of all shapes and sizes cut through the waves with ease, some loaded with families enjoying a leisurely boat ride, others laden with members of the Sumerian Guard, keeping a constant vigil over the coast. _

_In the distance, he could even make out a formation of Hyrulean warships and fighter-bombers engaging in their usual war games. With live ammo as usual, of course. Needless to say, everyone gave them a very wide berth. _

_Flexing his muscles, he felt a sudden chill as the sea breeze blew over his body. Suddenly, he became aware of just how little he was wearing. Nothing, in fact. Before he could flush with embarrassment and retreat inside, he realized their room was on the highest level of the manor, meaning no one could see him in his birthday suit unless they had some binoculars or something similar. _

_Sighing in relief, he turned around when he heard footsteps. Light, graceful footsteps that only she could possess. Parting the curtains with one arm and a white robe tucked beneath the other, she stepped onto the balcony slowly, blinking against the brightness of the sun. He noticed she had remembered to put on her own robe. _

"_Good morning, Ike..." She blushed when she saw him naked despite her best efforts, and giggled at the look of mock embarrassment on his face as she handed him the spare robe she had brought. "I knew you'd forget," she explained softly as he put it on. Walking over to him, she leaned against him and wrapped her arms around his waist. She only came up to his shoulders, and she rested her forehead against the side of his arm._

_Watching as the wind tossed her hair about and her emerald eyes glittered in the sun, he smiled down at her warmly and wrapped his arms around much smaller body, pulling her in close where she rested her head against his chest. She sighed softly and closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of his embrace while he gazed out to sea._

"_So," she began with a smile, looking up at him innocently, "what will we do today?" _

_He glanced out at the ocean and chuckled. "Not more planning," Ike replied hopefully. She smacked him playfully which provoked him to squeeze her briefly. "Well, I don't suppose we could go down to the beach for a swim?" She shook her head quickly. _

"_We do that every day! Besides, I'm exhausted from yesterday still..." She said slowly, resting the side of her head against his chest and wrapping herself around him even tighter. _

"_I don't think it was swimming that tired either of us out, Elincia." Ike said with a mischievous smirk. He restrained her arms when she went to playfully reprimand him again and put them behind her back. Leaning down, he kissed her softly on the lips and whispered in her ear, "that seems like a fun activity for the day. Right, love?" _

_Elincia felt herself almost melt under the gruff and powerful tone in his voice. "Perhaps," she whispered back. "If you can handle it so early..." He released her and she stumbled back a step. _

"_I think we both know the answer to that," he chuckled, reaching out and picking her up in both arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself towards him. Ike stumbled back towards their room as they began kissing heatedly. Elincia began moaning as Ike moved his kisses to her neck. _

_The two young lovers had almost reached the door when Ike suddenly stopped. He broke off their passionate kiss and set Elincia down gently. He walked towards the railing slowly, a perplexed look crossing his face. His fiancé followed behind him, breathing hard from their heated exchange._

_  
"Ike... What is it?" Elincia asked, her voice tinged with worry. _

"_Listen," he replied. _

_She did. There was nothing but the waves of the ocean crashing against the cliffs and rolling over the beaches. "There's nothing...wrong...oh..." No gulls. No people. Everything but the ever shifting waves had fallen into complete silence. Her heart beating quickly, this time from fear, Elincia latched onto her lover again. "What's going on?" she asked, her voice trembling._

_Holding her close, Ike scanned the horizon carefully and pointed towards the ocean. A thick bank of fog had rolled in, obscuring the sea from view. It seemed to radiate an unnatural aura, and Ike shuffled uneasily when he saw it. Elincia noticed his agitation and held onto him tighter. _

"_I'm going to go down to the beach and have a look around." Ike stated suddenly. She looked up at him, mouth agape. _

"_No! You can't! What if something happens to you..." she said, burying her face in his chest._

_He cupped her chin in his hand and tilted her head backwards so they were looking into each other's eyes. Tears were starting to form in her eyes, but he wiped them gently with his finger. "Nothing is going to happen," he said, kissing her softly on the lips. "I'm just going to go and see what happened. All those people down there don't just disappear without a reason, you know. Not to mention the vanishing gulls. It's really not a big deal, I promise." She nodded slowly and hugged him as tightly as she was able, signifying her reluctant consent. _

_Suddenly, an ear-splitting screech rent the air, the screaming of hundreds of motors diving from the heavens above. The distant rumblings of explosions shook the balcony weakly. Ike looked down on the beach again as the fog parted as if cloven in two. _

_Scores of ebony black ships were landing on the beaches, the corpses of the once blissful people now littering their white sands. The smoldering wrecks of several Sumerian ships dotted the shallows behind the black ships. More people, garbed in combat fatigues the same color as the ships which were disgorging them, spread across the beaches quickly, pausing at a body every now and then. _

_The sounds of gunfire carried weakly to the balcony over the whine of the engines above._

_"Those weren't Hyrulean ships..." he hissed, recalling the ships engaging in apparent war games earlier. "Shit!" _

_Looking up as the screaming of engines grew louder, Ike saw too late the bombers coming for the houses along the cliffs. He grabbed Elincia by the waist and dived for their room. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as the bullets and bombs began to drop all around. He heard a terrible explosion as his entire world shook and began to crumble around him. The glass sliding door shattered, the pictures fell to the floor and their frames cracked, the ceiling fell in and smashed the furniture under tons of masonry. _

_But they were still on the balcony. _

_Ike heard Elincia scream as he felt himself thrown violently into the air. Before the explosion had thrown him, he had felt the balcony crumple and collapse under his feet. He felt himself slam against a hard surface and, disoriented, he tried to focus his vision. Realization hit him as he slammed again against a hard surface and his vision came into focus. He was falling, and in a warped sideways view he saw the black ships and the men storming over the beaches as gravity pulled him towards the distant ground._

_Elincia was screaming. Tumbling head over heels in a dangerously rag-doll like fashion, Ike managed to make out her form amongst the rain of rubble that surrounded them as they fell. He kicked out at a large boulder, forcing himself towards her. Again, and again he nearly defied physics, until he could reach out and grab her. _

_Together, they fell towards the beaches below. Ike maintained an iron grip on her, and she cried loudly over the cacophony around them. He tried talking to her over the roar of the rubble to calm her down, but it was a hopeless endeavor. A large crack reverberated through the air above them suddenly, and Ike twisted around to see what it was._

_Another rain of bombs had pummeled the cliffs, and hundreds of tons of rock were barreling down on them. _

_"Hang on!" Ike cried, bracing himself as the rocks, falling faster, began to overtake them. Using his body to shield Elincia's, Ike twisted through the storm of rock with almost supernatural grace, until one struck him in the back. He groaned in pain and his grip around his fiancé weakened. Another one struck him in the right shoulder, and his arm went limp. _

_Elincia was sent spinning away from him by the terrible g-forces, screaming as he managed to catch her just in time with his left hand. Spinning out of control and buffeted by rubble, Ike could feel his grip on her hand slowly slipping._

_"Don't let me go! Ike! Please!" Her voice somehow carried to him over the roar of everything else. There was a tone of desperation in it, an edge of fear that struck hard at Ike's heart. Her glimmering emerald eyes pierced into his soul, begging him for salvation. He would not let her die. _

_As he tried to reach out with his other arm despite the pain, another large rock hit his left arm. _

_In an instant he had instinctively drawn his arm back to his body, breaking his grip on Elincia's hand. He watched in horror, crying out in rage and despair as she fell far out of reach and sight. Grieving over his loss, Ike saw out of the corner of his eye the ground looming just moments away. He made no effort to break his fall as he hit the sands and everything went black. _

_

* * *

_The guards had long since fallen unconscious or retired to their quarters, but still he could have peace. 

Laying awake on his side, Ike stared into the fire. He pulled the blanket around his body tighter, gritting his teeth as his frustration built. A thin sheet of cold sweat covered his entire body despite the cold, and he watched the flames with a mixture of rapture and despair.

In them he saw the lurid visions that stalked his dreams and the marvelous fantasies of a life forever lost. Most of all though, he saw the eyes. The accusing emerald eyes which pierced his very soul. Every step he took, he felt their gaze upon him. He could not rest. Vengeance had to be served.

At least his talk with Malon had proved fruitful for one thing, he realized. It had confirmed for him the truth of Svnier's words. The time for inaction had long passed.

He sat up slowly, and gently woke up the sleeping giant. They had much work to do.

* * *

A/N: All right, our next chapter has arrived! Credit for the chapter goes almost entirely to LinkIsaacANDLloyd, with not much more than grammatical contributions on xakattak's part. The romance scene is especially credited to him. Anyway, read and review people! 


	7. The Great Crusade: Landing

**Chapter 7:**** The Great Crusade: Landing**

LinkIsaacANDLloyd's A/N: This chapter is xakattak's pride and joy, I would say. I edited it to make it flow better and such, but without him laying down the framework for everything it could never have been as good as it is. We all want you to be aware, this chapter is quite violent. I doubt it will make you ill, but this chapter gets the M rating anyway. Oh, and I might as well say it now before it's too late, even though this is essentially WWII with Zelda, there are some very exotic and unrealistic things in it, courtesy of my demented mind. Such as ludicrous weapons which could not even exist today, like the Tri-guns mentioned I think in chapter five.

Anyway, enjoy our masterpiece TWO-PART chapter. It's what you've all been dying for!

* * *

Like a great beast of metal, the mighty battleship _Litany of Farore_ rumbled slowly to a halt in the waters of Great Bay. Around it were scores of other smaller battleships, cruisers, destroyers, and frigates. It dwarfed them all, towering hundreds of feet higher in the air and spanning an entire mile in length. It was one of the Leviathans, the three mighty capitol ships of the Hyrulean fleet, forged from holy steel blessed by the highest Priestesses and Bishops of the Goddess whose name it bore. 

Only the sacred Tri-guns possessed more firepower than the Leviathans, and the very presence of one was enough to win a battle. The tumultuous sound of its grinding gears echoed across the waves as hundreds of mighty cannons rotated to face the beaches of Great Bay only two miles away across the waves. As one, the guns opened fire, a horrendous crack which shook the _Litany of Farore_ and all those around it. The other ships with the range joined in, lobbing massive shells towards the beaches.

The mighty fortification of the Brynyans would permit no less. If the Hyrulean gambit was to work, the greatest amphibious invasion in the history of the world, then the enemy defenses would have to be pounded into oblivion as much as possible before the infantry landed. It would be a massacre, a tragedy, and a military disaster for Hyrule otherwise. The ancient gods of the sea, who were said to dwell near Great Bay, would have to be appeased later. Now, there was a battle to win, and superstitions were meaningless.

High up on the command spire of the _Litany of Farore_, beneath the bridge itself, Lord Militant Draenor and Master Chaplain Mikelus gazed out of the large windows of Draenor's lavish chambers towards the shore, both of them wearing simple golden robes of the High Hyrulean Command hierarchy. Mikelus carried a sacred powerblade and pyrepistol at his side, each of the weapons blessed with holy spells and wards which made them glow brilliantly. Draenor watched intently at massive plumes of sand were flung hundreds of feet into the air by the incredible force of the bombardment. Explosions occasionally rippled across the horizon as ammunition bunkers were hit and their contents cooked off in spectacular firestorms.

Each massive blast of the Leviathan's guns shook the chamber, the ornate chandeliers and gold and silver china and utensils shaking and filling the chamber with a constant, high-pitched rattling. Mikelus ignored it and sat down on of the white satin sofas by the windows, a glass of dark wine in his hand. Taking a sip, he savored the flavor slowly and sighed with satisfaction, smacking his lips quietly and turning to look over his shoulder and out the window.

"Quite a show," he remarked as a great plume of flame burst nearly a kilometer followed by a great cloud of black smoke. "Despite the damage they're taking, they do not answer us with their own guns. Ha! They must truly be trembling in fear in the presence of such a mighty testament to the Goddesses' Will."

Draenor walked to the rich mahogany table edged with golden runes and silver trim, noting with a slight frown the small drops of wine on the white silk tablecloth. He turned to glance at Mikelus briefly, then at the half empty bottle of wine, looking back at the chaplain and noting the red in his cheeks and the way he swayed slightly even while sitting.

"Mikelus," he began, grabbing the bottle by the neck and turning to face him, "what is this?"

The Master Chaplain turned from the spectacular bombardment and looked at Draenor for a few moments, startled to have been awakened from his day dreaming. Then, he noticed the bottle in his hands and grinned.

"Why, that's hard Deku Valley Wine, aged ten years, so it claims! The finest Hyrule has to offer, the subtle hint of honey makes it an absolutely divine beverage." He stopped and hiccupped loudly, taking another sip of wine. "Have some, Draenor!"

The Lord Militant stared in disbelief at the supposed holy man. "You... You're drunk, Mikelus," he said, "On the eve of the greatest infantry battle Hyrule has fought in nearly half a century."

"So?" asked Mikelus with a loud hiccup.

Shaking his head, Draenor turned away and sunk into a matching chair by the table, sighing deeply and rubbing his temples. Drawing up a nearby empty and sparkling clear wine glass, he poured himself a small portion and sipped at it slowly. He gazed back at Mikelus and rolled his eyes. Some people didn't know how to properly indulge the commodities of their station without going over the deep end. The Chaplain was clearly one of them.

Taking the glass and the bottle, he got up from the table and crossed the room to an old mahogany desk plated with gold. A Triforce of an emerald, a ruby, and a sapphire was sat in the center, and the gems sparkled under the glow of the desk's built in lamps. Several large piles of papers and files cluttered the otherwise pristine workspace.

Draenor sighed and picked a file at random, opening the folder and examining the documents within. He sipped at his wine as he pored over them. The images of the Brynyan defenses taken by high-flying spy planes before the bombardment had begun. He wondered what they looked like now, as they were taken apart by a bombardment which contained shells larger than several men. Smiling to himself, he continued to pore over the photos and imagined how they might look now.

Eventually, he had instead begun to intensely study the network of Brynyan defenses. The Great Bay was a large body of water, remaining relatively shallow for about half a mile from the shore before suddenly dropping off hundreds of feet into deep ocean, where expansive and ancient reefs sat on the sea floor. The beaches of Great Bay were nothing special, just a few miles in between the otherwise jagged and tall cliffs which wrapped around nearly the entire western continent, save for a large stretch of beautiful beach near the Sumerian capitol.

This meant that any assault could be easily concentrated on one area, but could conversely be funneled into a killing field by the enemy. That job was made even easier for the enemy as the beaches grew ever narrower the farther inland one traveled. Hills that sloped to meet the cliffs which then lead into the expansive Terminian flatlands were blocked off by Brynyan bunkers and the command post itself. A large field of fixed artillery emplacements was behind the command post, well defended by the entirety of the Brynyan's fortifications. With the hills blocked off, the only route into the fields was a narrow pass through the cliffs just about fifteen feet wide, and it was covered with landmines, razor wire, and tall concrete walls.

A massive series of intricate trenches darted through the hills and cliffs that overlooked the beaches, connecting bunkers both underground and above and providing a key supply network for ammunition and troop deployment. Large concrete structures rose in the sky, bunkers filled with snipers and fixed machine gun positions. They were also likely well laden with anti-tank rockets. Thin towers were dotted throughout the defenses, a quad-turreted anti-air gun sitting on top and constantly looking to the skies for a target. Thankfully, noted Draenor, their planes could fly enough to avoid them and get these pictures. Unfortunately though, the crews of those guns possessed very elevated positions, and could easily turn their high-powered and armor piercing rounds on any infantry attacking the defenses. Mortar pits built half into the ground could easily angle their shells right onto the beach and any attackers.

Dominating the Brynyans' beach fortress were two massive bunkers which overlooked the center of the beaches. Scores of machine guns would likely be bristling at the openings to gun down all advancing infantry. No doubt they were constructed sturdier than many of the ships in the fleet, and Draenor doubted that they would be destroyed by anything but direct impacts from the _Litany of Farore_'s main guns. The Leviathan was certainly not known for accuracy however, so he was almost certain they would remain standing when it came time for the infantry push. The sides of the beaches he noted were covered with smaller, but nonetheless dangerous, bunkers and fortifications.

In front of it all however, was the first problem they faced. The beach itself was a maze of razor wire, landmines, pitfalls, and defilades. It was all sprawled out so randomly, it looked as if everything had just been dropped in place by giant hand. There was little doubt that the Brynyans had hoped a suicidal Hyrulean push up the beach into the deathtrap, coupled with relentless mortar, artillery, and machine gun fire would break them utterly. But what the Brynyans hadn't thought of, however, was that one of the Leviathans would be present to pound them to dust beforehand.

Draenor smiled and leaned back in his chair, sipping his wine. He enjoyed pouring over maps such as this and directing the great armies of Hyrule. Up until now though, it had never been nothing more than a hobby, a game to make sure his skills stayed sharp. Now it was real. Men would die, and he faced victory or defeat based on his own decisions, which he hoped were not hollow from inexperience.

This was his first war. It was everyone's first war, the second Great War which would be the proving ground for their generation, and its fate was in his hands. He trembled as he felt adrenaline course through him. Perhaps it was inexperience in the realities of war, but now that the battles were actually beginning, he couldn't calm himself down. He smiled and got up from the desk, walking back towards the large windows with the now emptier bottle in hand. He refilled his glass and sloshed it around a bit, taking a deeper drink than usual.

Mikelus turned around when he heard the sound of the wine pouring, his hand fiddling with his empty glass. Draenor rolled his eyes and passed him the bottle. The Chaplain grinned and poured himself a generous helping, then returned to watching the bombardment with an almost childlike fascination.

Draenor sat down on the sofa a few seats down from him, staring at the golden carpet and its repeating Triforce pattern blankly. He looked across the room, at a tapestry portraying the legendary hero wielding the sacred blade of the Goddesses, the Blade of Evil's Bane. The Master Sword. He often wondered to himself, even now as an adult, what had happened to the sword of legend. Shaking his head, he pushed the childish fantasy away. That's all it was after all, a legend.

As the ship's cannons continued to fire, he began to daydream, leaning back into the sofa and nearly dozing off. He knew it was in poor taste, as the total commander of Hyrulean forces, to doze off during a battle, but he figured since it was just an ocean to shore bombardment, it all came down to the fleet commanders anyway.

Absentmindedly he pulled out his jade Triforce necklace and began to fiddle with it, muttering incoherent things. Mikelus stole the wine bottle and hogged it to himself as Draenor drifted deeper into sleep, rubbing the small piece of jade between his fingers. Unseen by him or Mikelus, the necklace slowly began to glow, shaking and glowing brighter with each burst of the ship's cannons. Eventually, it began to emit a high-pitched screech that grew steadily louder as well.

Suddenly, Draenor's eyes snapped open, their normal green and white replaced entirely with a writhing blue color, like the great waves which crashes against the ship's hull outside. A terrible vision began to flash through his mind and he stood up with a start, unable to see the room around him as he stumbled about blindly, dropping his glass and tripping over what felt like a chair as the roar of the ocean filled his ears. He heard Mikelus shout something but couldn't hear it as he began to make out what was happening before him.

Floating high in the air above the fleet, he felt the wind and the bitter chill of the ocean spray hit him. He shivered and looked down, seeing and hearing the ships lob their shells towards the shore. Confused and afraid, he looked around, realizing he was soaking wet despite being so far from the ocean and any substantial amount of liquid whatsoever. With a shiver he pushed his dark red hair out of his eyes and looked back towards the fleet, still in complete shock.

What he saw next nearly overwhelmed him. A massive tentacle erupted from the waves and wrapped itself around a cruiser's middle completely and began to constrict. He could hear the sound of the steel as it snapped and the cries of the crew as they plummeted to their deaths in the depths of the ocean, despite his distance from the scene. The two halves of the ship were soon completely snapped apart, each one sinking quickly as the tentacle withdrew beneath the waves.

Horrified, Draenor tried to make sense of what was going on, and why it was happening. Before he could get anywhere however, scores of tentacles shot up out of the ocean and began to drag ships down all around, snapping, smashing, or simply pulling the fleet into the sea one by one. Other shapes moved about amongst the tentacles, great shadows which slammed into ships from under the obscurity of the water. Some were long and lithe, others short and wide.

But to Draenor, they all did the same thing: they horrified him. He watched them tear the fleet, his fleet, to pieces and cried out in despair and anger. He felt the necklace pulsing in his clenched fist and brought it close and stared at it.

"What is this!?" he screamed at it frantically. "What's going on!?"

He felt the necklace slip almost as if on its own in response, and watched it fall from his hand and plummet towards the ocean with a look of dismay.

Suddenly, as he closed his eyes he felt himself suddenly back in his chambers. Someone was shaking him and as he became more aware of his surroundings again, he found himself on the floor. Sitting up, he rubbed at his eyes and found the roar of the ocean had left his ears and he could once again see in front of himself clearly. Looking up, he saw Mikelus and two navy aides standing over him, concern on their faces.

"Lord Militant sir, are you alright?" asked one of the aides, his shotgun slung across his back and his great fatigues dull and wet from patrol along the ship's deck.

Draenor waved the man away and accepted Mikelus' hand as it was offered. After the Chaplain pulled him up, he suddenly became aware that he was soaking wet. Turning from the two aides and Mikelus with a look of terror, Draenor rushed to the window and looked out over the fleet. He sighed in relief when he saw no sign of the strange creatures or the tentacles, but stumbled backwards with a cry when he heard the cannons fire.

"Cease fire damn it!" he roared, looking towards the two aides and tossing them a small signet ring. "Take this to the bridge and tell them they have orders to ceasefire immediately. All ships."

The aides stared at him dumbfounded for a moment, confused and hesitant to deliver what they thought was a ridiculous order.

"You heard the Lord Militant," roared Mikelus. "Go! Move!"

Without another second of hesitation, the aides took off and disappeared through the door. Mikelus turned towards Draenor, who was sitting on the sofa and staring into space with a very distant and terrified look on his face.

"Sir? What is it?"

Draenor snapped back to reality at the Chaplain's words and stared at him for a moment.

"I don't want to believe it, Mikelus," he began, his voice hoarse and exhausted, "but I think we've angered something very powerful here today. Something from below..."

"You mean the ancient gods of the sea?" asked Mikelus, surprised.

Draenor nodded slowly and stood up, turning to look out the window. He pointed to different ships, and Mikelus noted each one in turn, wondering what their significance could be.

"I had a vision, where I was high above the fleet as it is now, and I saw...things, tearing those ships and others to pieces and dragging them beneath the waves. It was a horrifying sight," said Draenor quietly, his arm trembling as he turned and collapsed down on the sofa.

"There were strong superstitions about this, Draenor. Perhaps we should have listened."

Draenor nodded slowly as he noticed, with a deep sigh of relief that the thunder of the cannons had stopped. He didn't need to check to know that the rest of the fleet had stopped as well. As long as the _Litany of Farore_ had ceased fire, so too would the other ships.

"Goddesses preserve us," whispered Draenor.

"What shall we do now, Lord Militant?" Mikelus asked.

Draenor gave him a look. "You...are no longer intoxicated?"

The Master Chaplain smiled. "Perhaps I still am, in a stricter sense of the word. But to fully bring me under its sway? I doubt there is an alcohol in the world with such a power, Draenor."

With a weak chuckle, Draenor stood up from the sofa and walked slowly towards the doors, pausing only once to look back and gesture for Mikelus to follow him.

"Now," he began, his voice tinged with sadness, "the real battle begins."

Mikelus raised an eyebrow. "Sir?"

"I will go to the bridge now to command this battle. I can only hope I don't damn us all." He turned to walk away, but stopped and turned back to Mikelus. "They will need your help when the assault begins. The soldiers will need to see you there or they may not have the resolve to gain a victory here today."

Without another word, Draenor turned and left his chambers, leaving Mikelus alone. The Master Chaplain drew his powerblade from its sheath and thumbed the activation sequence on the hilt, causing it to spring to life, and the jagged blades on the edges began to buzz and crackle with holy energies. He nodded slowly and smiled grimly, turning off the sword and putting it back in its sheath. Silently, without a backwards glance, he left the room, turning out the lights and sealing the door behind him.

Inside the now unoccupied and darkened room, Draenor's necklace, a tiny piece of the Jade Sea gifted to him by his father, lay on the floor by the table, quivering and glowing slightly in the dark. Beneath it, the carpet was soaked with water. Next to it, as if it had been flipped over, the carpet began to grow wet as well, in the same perfect triangle of the necklace. Above the first two spots, another one began to appear, creating the image of the Triforce. It glowed a brilliant blue for a while, and then died down, leaving the room in complete darkness save for the sunlight which streamed down from the overcast sky and through the window.

* * *

All at once, the sea was silent. The cannons had ceased to fire, and now only the waves, the wind, and the few gulls not scared off by the cannons remained to permeate the silence. Many tense and silent minutes passed, slowly and agonizingly as orders were passed down the chain of command. Then, the hundreds of frigates, the troop carriers of the fleet, started with a lurch towards the shallower waters of the inner Great Bay. 

The wailing of klaxons filled the air, drowning out all but the rumble of the ships' engines as they progressed towards the shore. A few larger and far more ponderous destroyers and some speedier cruisers followed them in as far as their greater bulk would allow, in order to give precise covering fire for the smaller frigates if it was needed.

Aboard one of the frigates, Link and the rest of his regiment of two thousand came awake with a start when the klaxons began blaring. Rubbing his forehead gingerly, Link took off his sleep fatigues one handed as the other clutched the site of what was going to be a nasty bruise. He was stuck with the bottom bunk in the troop quarters and when the klaxons had sounded he had sat up with a start, startled by the noise. His forehead and smacked into the metal bars which supported the top bunk from beneath as he sat up, stunning him as he had rolled out of bed in a daze.

Now though, he was recovering quickly and he reached for his bag and pulled out his light green combat fatigues and helmet. He briefly glanced around him as he pulled on the scratchy clothes with a sour face. How was he supposed to concentrate on a battle if he could barely keep his sanity wearing his clothes? They were so itchy, he wanted to scream. His comrades were faring little better, scratching and frowning as they suffered through the torment of the less than comfortable combat fatigues.

That wouldn't stop them from being shot at however, so Link did his best to block out the annoyance as he finished buttoning his shirt and slipped on his flak-vest and zipped it shut. It was a cheap piece of body armor, nothing like what they gave to the officers and the elite cadre of soldiers, and certainly nothing like what the Lord Militant and the Master Chaplain themselves had access to. He doubted whether a canon would stop them, and his dinky little vest could barely take the pressure off getting hit by a hard thrown rock. He swore, it was more fashion statement than body armor, not to mention the average trooper would feel at least slightly more confident wearing something that resembled body armor, even if it was only a scant resemblance.

He looked to his right as he picked up his helmet, noticing Colin, Malo and Talo standing looking completely dejected and horrified as they robotically and slowly changed into their combat wear. The poor bastards had lived a more sheltered life than even he had. Link sighed and put on his helmet, wincing slightly as the cold metal made full contact with his scalp. He lifted it slightly and ran a hand over his bare head, frowning at the absence of what was once, 'his beautiful golden locks, like a princess.' He shook his head and sighed sadly at the memory. Of all the things he needed to think about and focus on right now, his sister was not one of them.

Fortunately enough for him, he was spared painful memories of his family by the doors to the upper decks bursting open and smashing into the wall with a loud bang which sent a heavy metallic reverberation through the air and painfully into soldier's ears. They all winced as they blinked against the blinding light which poured in through the open doorway, silhouetting the man standing in it.

"Hurry up you wretches! We don't have all day! Din knows, the battle won't wait on your slow and pathetic asses! Assemble on the deck in five minutes, maggots. Any dissenters from this order shall be summarily executed in front of their peers!"

The door slammed shut, temporarily blinding the troops as the light from outside disappeared and the dim lighting in the troop quarter was all that was left to illuminate their vision. They all shuddered and redoubled their pace, neither wanting to face the sergeant's, or rather master sergeant's, wrath. He wouldn't say it, and it wasn't official but Tancred held far more rank than his simple title showed, and none of them wanted to piss him off. More than usual, anyway.

Finishing up, Link and the rest quickly grouped together with their squads of ten and moved out for the deck in as orderly a fashion as they could. Looking around him, Link saw the frightened and tired faces. None of them had gotten much sleep, even through the journey from Hyrule had taken nearly a week and they had been given ample free time while on the ship. Just the thought of the upcoming battle scared more of them than they could ever possibly describe, and visions of their deaths haunted their vision every time they tried to sleep. They all now knew the worst part of being a soldier was not being yelled at or shot at. No, they didn't have to have been in battle to know that the worst part was always the waiting. The calm before the storm was a Hell all unto itself.

The deck was a simple affair, large and open to accommodate large numbers of personnel. The railing was high to prevent anyone from falling to their deaths in the roiling waves below, and the large command center towered on the rear of the ship, behind the troops as they emerged from below decks where the troop quarters were. Mounted on top of the command structure was a small quad-barreled canon, the only armament the frigate had to defend itself and its crew. Link looked off the deck and out to sea, noticing the much larger shapes of destroyers and cruisers. If it came down to it, he realized, their survival would depend all on the speed of the frigate and the power of the larger boats.

Eventually they were all on deck and assembled, just barely making it according to a very annoyed and anxious Tancred. He was dressed in full battle garb, wearing gold carapace armor over his golden fatigues. A BAR assault rifle, his weapon of choice, was slung over his back and on his side was a pyrepistol, a weapon of incredible power gifted only to truly worthy officers. Also strapped to his waist was a chainblade, a brutal weapon that served as a sword, but with a blade that spun furiously with jagged and serrated teeth like a chainsaw. The men close enough to see it in detail shuddered as the thought of it ripping through flesh and killing crossed their minds. For all his cruel remarks and almost cocky attitude, Tancred was a servant of the Goddesses first, a dangerous one, and the men were happy he was on their side.

"Listen up now, maggots. As you can hear," he noted some troops massaging bruises on their heads, "or maybe feel, the time has come. You all knew what was expected of you, and now the time has come to prove you aren't worthless maggots, but the damned Lances of Farore you've been christened as!"

He walked to the prow of the ship slowly and turned to face them all, drawing his sword and pointing it into the air.

"I know you are all horrified of me, for the power I hold, for the way I treat you all. But that is of no matter now, for I am here no longer to scare you and to shape you into killing machines! Now I lead you on this day, into battle, and this day is your day! This will be the day you prove your metal to the world! Will you falter and die on that beach? Will you let the Brynyans cut you down? Would you forsake your country, your comrades, and your Goddesses by dying and losing this fight!?"

There was a very brief moment of mutual hesitation amongst the men as they tried to come to grips with the new attitude Tancred had. But it was only that, a very brief moment. All at once then, they all roared back.

"Never!"

"Yes! Never! Do not fear, do not waver in the face of the enemy! You are the scum of Hyrule now, not fit to lick the sole of my boot! But when this day, your day, is over, and each of you is baptized in the blood of your slain enemies and martyred allies, you will be more than that. You will be the very Lances of Farore, the chosen warriors of the great Goddess of courage and war! On that beach, lies the destiny of each and every one of you. Many of you shall die, but so shall many of you live on to fight the war and destroy the Brynyan Empire and bring peace to the world under the united banner of Hyrule, once and for all!"

Link found himself cheering, despite that it was Tancred who was giving the speech. He had no idea how he had gone from cruel sergeant to inspiring speaker so fast, but he somewhat liked the change. At least, if he survived this, he probably wouldn't have to listen to anymore jabs towards people from the country like himself involving inbreeding and retardation.

"Now, soldiers of Hyrule, prove to me, and to the Goddesses and the world, that you are worthy! To the boats!" roared Tancred over the cheering men as they ran to the hangers below deck where the DUKW assault boats were waiting for them.

Link's squad was the last in line, and Link looked behind them to see Tancred approaching. He grabbed Ralph, their squad's justicar, by the shoulder.

"You and your squad is with me, Justicar," said Tancred.

"Y-Yes sir!" saluted Ralph smartly, wincing as he brought his hand to his already sore forehead a little too fast.

* * *

The DUKW slid down the ramp and hit the water with loud slap, throwing water into the air in all directions. Without missing a beat its engine revved loudly as it fought against the currents to gain momentum. Eventually, it broke free of the ocean's pull and sped ahead at a swift pace to form up with the thousands of others like it. 

Link thought he was going to be sick as the boat bobbed up and down constantly to the waves yet continued to drive forward swiftly all the same. The constant rise and fall and variation between incline and decline left him green in the face, almost literally, and he wasn't the only one. Colin, Talo, Malo, and another soldier named Croe were also looking very ill. One man named Jackson was already leaning over the side of the boat, retching.

Link sighed and gagged as he held back another wave of nausea. Looking ahead, he saw Tancred sitting at the prow silently, a his BAR cradled in his arms delicately and his finger ready on the trigger. Link couldn't see his face, but he was sure it was set in stone and motionless. Next to him, leaning against the side of the boat, was Justicar Ralph. He too was feeling ill, and his Thompson SMG was hanging limply from one hand as his other covered his mouth.

Troopers Bragg, Rawne, and Eliot sat on the benches in silence, resting the stocks of their M1 Garands on the floor of the boat and staring downwards. They hardly moved, and Link wondered if they were dead instead of sick, but then Rawne leaned over the side of the boat suddenly and gagged loudly. He fell back onto the bench and coughed a few times, moaning and holding a hand to his mouth against another wave of nausea.

Link sighed and leaned against his rifle as he rested its stock on the floor. They were all sick, it seemed, except for the indomitable Tancred up front, and the driver and gunner at the rear of the boat. It wasn't really the sea that was making him ill when he really thought about it. Rather, when he realized that he actually didn't know how to swim, and neither did any of the others in his regiment given that they all grew up in the middle of the plains away from any standing water source, that made him sick far more than any amount of rising and falling waves ever could.

The thought of the boat capsizing and sending them into the icy dark grips of the sea made him shudder fearfully. He was sure the others felt the same way, Colin most of all. Link looked at him, easily the youngest individual in the entire Hyrulean army, and sighed. He was twenty-one, so he was legally an adult and it seemed only fitting he should be fighting for his country. But Colin, he was barely sixteen. The kid didn't deserve to be here, and when he thought about it, none of them did. Other than Colin and Ralph, who was a few years older than Link, they were all seventeen. Not even adults, and yet they were going to fight and die. It made Link sad to think of all the other like them throughout the entire army. So much innocence was lost, never to be regained.

If he hadn't been afraid, Link would have been furious. Furious with the Brynyans, with the army for drafting kids, and with the world in general for having to go and get in a second Great War. Hadn't the first caused enough death and rampant destruction? Why couldn't people just learn from the stupid mistakes of the past?

It mattered little, he supposed. It was just human nature after all, wasn't it? There was nothing to be done about the past anyway. Sighing sadly, he looked over the occupants of the boat once again. They were just kids still, even if only by a slim margin, and it was up to him to look after them. Since when did he get such a resolute sense of responsibility, he wondered?

Looking up at the overcast sky, he found his gaze drawn to the beach, which suddenly seemed all to close for comfort. He could make it out in detail now, the razor wire, the defilades, the bunkers and the towers. The machine guns which would certainly be hidden in every spot possible to gun them down the second they set foot on the sand, and the mortars and artillery which would blow them apart. He saw the great craters and crumbling structures caused by the bombardment and wondered why they hadn't just pounded the Brynyans to dust from the safety of the sea. Why were they being sent to die when they had the power to destroy them completely without any loss of life?

Glancing over the side of the boat, he saw scores of other boats, each one carrying ten soldiers. And those were just the boats in his line of sight. There were thousands traveling to the beach, tens of thousands of soldiers which made up just the first wave of what would be over a million troops taking part in the assault. The scale of it unnerved Link, but the losses they were sure to suffer unnerved him even more.

"Two minutes!" cried the driver suddenly.

Link snapped back to attention, glancing towards the beach and then Tancred as he turned around. Had he really been that out of it he had not even noticed how close they were to battle? Or was it just not getting to him anymore?

"Alright you dogs, this is it," said Tancred over the roar of the ocean and the boat's engine. "Your objective is the main barrier of razor wire at the end of the beach. You'll notice how its on top of a steep slope of sand, meaning as long as you lay prone on the slope the Brynyans cannot shoot you. They will try no doubt, but just keep your damn heads down. No matter what happens, do not stop until you reach it!"

There was a murmur of understanding amongst the squad as Tancred turned back and gripped his BAR tightly, bracing himself for when the front hatch dropped. All of a sudden, the beach came alive. Bullets streamed down at them from everywhere, the muzzle flashes of machine guns and long range rifles alike appearing in the darkness of the bunkers and towers.

A hail of lead came towards them and hit the front of the boat harmlessly. The sound of the bullets impacting the metal hard was loud and unnerving and they all went as low to the floor as they could. None of them were feeling sick anymore. They were now just truly and surely scared for their live. Link however, didn't feel anything but dread for what was to come.

Soon, the bullets stopped impacting the boat and Croe stood up in excitement. Bragg lunged to pull him back down.

"Haha! That's right you stupid Brynyans! You ca-." Trooper Croe's head burst as a another volley of high caliber bullets came at them now that there was a target.

Everyone ducked down again as Colin began screaming, Croe's headless body landing in his lap. Blood was gushing over his pants and vest from the top of the dead man's now open neck. Rawne grabbed him and pulled him back, away from the body as Tancred called out to the driver.

"How much longer, damn you!"

"About thirty seconds, sir! Just hold on!"

_Easy for you to say_, thought Link. _You're in a metal cab._

To their right suddenly, a great explosion from under the water catapulted a nearby boat nearly ten meters into the air. It spun wildly, a great hole torn in its prow and screaming as its engine caught fire and its occupants fell into the icy waters of Great Bay. Before it hit the water and sank, the flames found the ammo bank for the duel-turret machine gun mounted next to the driver's cab. The ammunition cooked off and the boat exploded completely, sending shards of dangerous metal shrapnel through the air.

"Mines!" someone screamed.

Link and the rest of his squad ducked, but the gunner wasn't so lucky. Shrapnel lanced through his left eye and out the back of his head before he could duck down into the safety of the metal cab. His limp body fell into the cab anyway, and the driver screamed in shock and almost steered them into a nearby boat before that boat too was taken by a massive explosion which ripped its stern out from under it, sinking it in a matter of moments. The screams of the men on board as it capsized and trapped them as it went under would have haunted them forever, had they been able to listen to him.

Now, mortars, Flak88s, and longer range artillery from the Brynyans fortress on the beach were opening up on them. Boats all around were sunk by precise flak-canon shots. One in front of them had a mortar land right inside of it. The boat moved on, listing carelessly to the right, all of its occupants obliterated by either the blast or the shrapnel, until it crashed into another boat and capsized it before its damaged engine caught fire and blew up the fuel tank. More shrapnel sliced through the air, raining down on and killing the few survivors from the capsized boat.

"Ten seconds!" cried the driver.

Link gripped his rifle and braced himself. _Goddess of Courage, hear my cry. I shall fight with honor, and with honor die. _Link recited the little chant taught to them all during training constantly in his head as he felt the bottom of the boat scrape against something solid.

"Five seconds! Four! Three! Two! One!" The hatch dropped just as a flak-canon round impacted the cab.

The explosion flung the squad onto the beach or, in the case of Jackson, Bragg, and the driver, incinerated them instantly. Link felt himself land hard on the sand behind the cover of a defilade. He looked up weakly and tried to lift himself off the ground, but he just began to collapse into unconsciousness, his strength gone. Behind him, scores of boats landed and disgorged their cargo. Bullets flew overhead in both directions as troops charged up the beach past his limp form, crying out in pain and anger as they fired at the Brynyans and were cut down in turn. A barrage of mortar rounds landed nearby, and he barely felt the gore that sprayed across his back as his vision went dark.

* * *

xakattak's A/N: Well, how was it? I can't know if you don't review. So review. Now. Part two will be up in a couple days. 


	8. The Great Crusade: Glory

**Chapter 8: The Great Crusade: Glory**

xakattak's A/N: All right, this is the extra-gory part of this chapter. M rated for sure. If you had a hard time with the last one, I suggest you find yourself a barf bag for this one. But repeating what the last chapter's note said, this is what you've all been waiting for! Finally some action, right?!

* * *

Link awoke, his head pounding, as a man fell screaming onto the sand next to him, his collarbone snapped and sticking out through his skin where a hail of bullets had shredded his neck. The man's blood oozed onto the sand slowly, forming into a considerable puddle which stained the sand red. Barely noticing him, Link groggily got to his knees and stumbled forward, grabbing onto the defilade in front of him for support. 

He looked around slowly, confused and gasping for air. He smelled the air and almost gagged. The stench of death, blood, smoke, the salty sea breeze, and kerosene. It permeated the air and he wrinkled his nose in disgust. Around him, men were constantly pouring onto the beach as empty boats returned to the frigates and full boats took their places and deposited troops, firing their supply of armor-piercing rounds towards the Brynyan defenses until they ran out.

Fighters and bombers screamed overhead, obliterating each other and whole sections of the beach and defenses. A Brynyan bomber flew right over him, dropping an incendiary bomb, which hit the beach in front of him. It erupted, releasing a massive burst of fire that incinerated everything in a hundred foot radius. Link was saved only by the defilade he cowered behind. Another bomber, perhaps the same one, flew overhead, twisting, and rolling as a fighter pursued it and shot off its left wing. With a screech, it hurtled towards the Brynyan lines and smashed into the hills beyond the beach with a bright flash.

Shaking his head, he suddenly remembered where he was and what he was doing there. What he had to do. Looking around, he saw his rifle on the beach, its barrel snapped in half. He swore loudly and unscrewed the bayonet, turning around to face the main line of razor wire Tancred had said was the objective. Something caught his eye as he turned. It was the dead man's rifle, in perfect shape. Dropping his bayonet he picked up the man's rifle, already fixed with a bayonet, and sidled up close to the defilade. Peering around it carefully, he scanned the beach for his squad.

What he saw out on the beach ahead of him was the most terribly glorious sights he had ever laid eyes on. His comrades were being massacred en masse as they pushed up the beach in massive surges. Mortar rounds and grenades blew scores of them to Hell with each passing moment. Many quickly learned to take cover and slowly move up, but many more continued to charge wildly and fire their rifles where they thought the Brynyans were.

There was blood everywhere, and bodies too, some whole, some not. Huge puddles of gore dotted the beach, and many men were drowning in their own blood. Link looked to his right as a group of men he remembered from their training at Herra charged up the beach. He thought about joining them, but ended up looking on in horror as a mortar landed in their midst. One man was merely thrown backwards by the blast and he struggled back to his feet and resumed his mad dash as the smoke cleared. In an instant, he stopped dead, transfixed as a stream of bullets riddled his body. With a scream he collapsed, a tattered thing of flesh permeated by countless holes.

Link began to feel quite sick again, as he looked down and noticed the severed arm next to him. He was able to hold it down, but he began to think that he would die here, no matter how great his resolution to look after the younger members of his squad was.

Looking across the beach, he saw a soldier dart from cover to make a dash for the rally point. The sand beneath him opened up with explosive force, blowing him to pieces. Link shivered uncontrollably. They had landmines, even! Suddenly, as the smoke cleared, he noticed that hiding in the cover of the defilade where the unfortunate soldier had been, was Colin. He looked to be a mess, trembling so bad he would have had worse accuracy with his gun than a blind man would.

Link peeked around the beach some more and spotted two more of his squad mates. He spotted Rawne and Eliot in a deep crater with five other soldiers just a little behind where Colin was. There was no sign of Ralph, Talo, Malo, or even Tancred. He highly doubted Tancred was dead, and even laughed half-heartedly to himself at the thought, but he was very concerned about the well being of the others. He shook his head and turned towards where Colin was hiding.

It was time to act, he reasoned. He saw that the MG42s in the bunkers were concentrating their fire on the opposite side of the beach. If he could move fast enough, he could get to Colin before the bullets got to him. Deciding he had nothing to lose, he sighted with his rifle, fired a few rounds at the bunker opening to hopefully make them keep their heads down for a little while, and then dashed for Colin. The boy looked up as he saw Link approaching and he smiled broadly, though Link was definitely not.

An MG42 was firing on him from a place he couldn't see, and someone was launching grenades at him from a long range launcher. Bullets stitched the sand and the air around him. One came within millimeters of going through his left temple and out the other side, but instead flew harmlessly past his eyes. He felt the breeze against his eyes as it went by though, and he yelped and ducked in shock. More bullets passed by where his head once was, and a grenade that would have knocked him flat went over top and landed behind him.

The grenade exploded without warning, but the shrapnel miraculously didn't touch him. Instead, the explosive force tripped him up and he collapsed to the ground and skidded in behind the defilade next to Colin. Bullets chewed up the sand as they passed through the air where his body would have been had the grenade not tripped him. Link sighed in relief and gasped for breath. Colin smiled excitedly and smacked him on the shoulder.

"That was amazing, Link!" he cried.

Link brushed it off and looked around, examining his new position. As he scanned the area, he saw Malo, Talo, and Ralph holed up with hundreds of other troops at the end of the beach by the razor wire, on the steep slopes where the machine guns couldn't get an angle to shoot them, just like Tancred had said. He saw the sergeant there with them as well, and those that couldn't find a spot on the slope were taking shelter in many of the large craters created by the earlier bombardment.

"Let's go, Colin!" Link cried as he signaled to Rawne and Eliot in the crater behind them.

He raised his rifle and fired on the bunkers, looking for the muzzle flashes instinctively. Colin hesitantly did the same, and, getting the idea, Rawne, Eliot and the rest of the soldiers in the crater and many more nearby rushed to the slope.

Seeing everyone else reach the objective safely, Link grabbed Colin by the wrist before waiting for his response and began to sprint towards the slope. Colin was trying to splutter out a reason why not to, but Link's grip was too strong and Colin was too worn out from fear and shock to bother fighting him.

He was there in a flash, spurred on by adrenaline, desperation, and perhaps even a sense of duty. The squad had gathered together near what was about the center of the slope, and Tancred looked over the two of them with annoyance as they threw themselves in their midst. Colin was shaking like a car with a bad motor and could barely maintain a grip on his rifle.

"Get a fucking hold of yourself, Private!" Tancred screamed at him.

Colin was scared well enough by the Brynyans, but even more so by the fuming Tancred. He quickly got control of himself and stopped his shaking, but his lower lip quivered quite noticeably.

"And you!" screamed the sergeant, pointing at Link. "What the fucking name of Nayru was that?! Are you trying to kill the Brynyans or fucking dance with their damned ammunition?!"

"I…I…Sir, I…"

"Oh, shut the fuck up, Private! You're one lucky son of a bitch, do you know that Private? You've got balls, son! What's your name scumbag?"

"A…Aires, sir. Link Aires, sir!" Link saluted smartly and tried not to shiver under Tancred's cold stare which conveyed too many emotions at once despite the emptiness in his eyes.

The sergeant simply nodded and turned away, crawling up almost to the lip of the slope.

"Listen up, you pukes! We're gonna send these sons of bitches back to the damn shitty fucking dump they crawled out of! I need you all to grow a fucking pair and do everything I tell you, or I will rip off what pathetic balls you were endowed with and shove them down your fucking throat! Understand?!"

The soldiers all nodded, trying not to show that they were more unnerved by Tancred then by the enemy. Although, he would probably just laugh and enjoy that knowledge, they realized.

"Now, this fence here is a big problem to us. Obviously, we can't go through it, and it's built on sand so we can't dig under it. I've radioed for some engineers to come up and blow us a hole, so until then all we can do is sit tight and wait. And remember, if I see any of you lacking conviction or running, I will shoot you through the fucking head! Without a second thought!"

The very idea made Link sick, especially since Tancred was so lighthearted about it. He didn't want to turn into someone that didn't think twice about killing, not to mention in such a gruesome way.

"Our objective from here is to take control of their command post beyond the trenches that lie past these bunkers. Once we take care of the left bunker, we're to move into the trenches and establish a foothold in them while other troops take out the right bunker. Then, after they are both taken care of, the entire army presented here will overrun the command post and claim it. Any questions?"

Nobody spoke.

"Good. Sit tight, men."

It wasn't long before the supplies Tancred was talking about arrived. There were two soldiers running toward them in the same fashion Link had done, only they were carrying a crate between them. Before they could get to safety however, they were gunned down by precise rifle shots.

"Damn!" swore Tancred. "They've got snipers!"

"Corporal," said Tancred, gesturing at a nearby soldier with a large flamethrower set strapped to his back to get the crate.

He nodded and Tancred gestured for Link to go with him. Together, they rushed back out of cover and dived behind a defilade before they could be shot. When Tancred lobbed a precise grenade into the left bunker and heavy fire was put on the right by daring troops on the slope, Link and the other soldiers rushed out and grabbed the crate, dragging it back to the slope quickly.

Link fell back in with the squad and watched as Tancred and the Corporal reached in and dug out a bunch of C4 charges. Eliot, the most mechanically capable individual in the squad, caught some as Tancred threw them to him.

"Set them up along the base of the fence and set the fuses. The rest of you help him."

For five tense minutes they worked, setting charges all along the fence. The only sound was of the fighting from the far left and right ends of the beach, where the assault was not impeded by as many barriers.

"All right men, get clear," said Tancred. "This is going to be one hell of a firework show!"

The soldiers stepped back far enough that they wouldn't be caught in the explosions, but not far enough that the ever vigilant MG42s could pick them off, as they continuously did to the constant tide of soldiers advancing up the beach. Tancred himself held the detonator that would simultaneously cause all the C4 charges to destroy the fence.

Tancred pressed the button. Instantly, they felt the force of the blast rumble through the ground. Even though they were distanced from the charges, the explosion was enough for Link to feel the heat and he winced.

"Go! Go! Go!" Tancred shouted, without waiting for the dust to settle.

The company charged forward through the massive open space now, all brandishing their M1 Garands, Thompson SMGs, or BARs. They passed what was once the fence and began to ascend the hill that housed the bunkers. Since the dust hadn't yet settled, the Brynyans couldn't see them advancing. They began to pass though the narrow path between the bunkers, bracing themselves for combat when they reach the top.

When they reached the top however, they were faced with an enormous maze of trenches and not a horde of angry Brynyans. Link and the rest of the squad entered the trenches and moved quickly through them, finding the entrance to the nearest bunker after almost a minute of frantic and hunched movement. The rest of their regiment followed behind them.

"Go!" Tancred barked to Link.

Using some of what he learned in training, Link hunched down low and hurriedly made his way for the entrance to the bunker, making sure not to be noticed through the windows at the rear as he headed for the edge of the door. He placed his back against the wall, and saw a comrade do the same on the opposite side of the closed, solid steel door. Link nodded at him, and the soldier reached over and pulled down the handle on the door, throwing it open.

"_Hyruleans! Töten sie!_" a Brynyan shouted. Link quickly detached the grenade on his lapel and pulled the pin, lobbing it into the bunker and closing the door as Tancred urged the nameless Corporal forward.

"_GRANATE!_"

The shouting stopped after the grenade went off with a dulled bang, and smoke billowed from the inside of the bunker. The Corporal quickly approached the door as the soldier standing at the door with Link threw it open again, adjusting the nozzle on his flamethrower. He pulled the trigger, instantly washing the interior of the bunker with a wave of fire. Whatever Brynyans had survived the detonation of Link's grenade had just got burnt to a crisp.

"Fire a few rounds to be sure those bastards aren't still alive somehow. And good work Torch," Tancred growled at Link and then the Corporal.

Link nodded and held his M1 high and steady at his shoulder, stepping into the bunker. There was smoke everywhere and he coughed on it and gagged on the heavy smell of kerosene, but he could make out lifeless forms heaped up all over against the wall and on the floor. He fired one shot into each one, until with a familiar _ping! _the clip shot itself out of the chamber of his rifle. He reached down into his belt and retrieved another clip, loading it into the chamber quickly.

Link waited for the smoke to exit the bunker through the openings to make sure they were all dead. Once it left enough for him to see, he instantly became sick to his stomach. All over the interior of the bunker were blackened, fried corpses. None of them were recognizable. Some of the corpses weren't even in one piece; they must have been mutilated by the shrapnel from the grenade.

Link stepped outside the bunker. His lower lip was quivering; he knew he was going to throw up.

"Ya done good there, Private," said Tancred as Link stepped out.

At that moment, upon receiving praise for what he had cause, he lost control. He heaved, vomited all over the trench floor. Everyone except Tancred took a step back in disgust. Link wiped his mouth, and slowly stood at attention.

"I'll say it again, you got balls, kid," said Tancred. "But you're gonna have to be able to cope with that kind of shit if you're ever gonna survive this war."

"Yes, sir," said Link quietly, silently wishing Tancred would be wrong.

"All right men, move out!" Tancred cried. "There's still plenty of Brynyan bastards in these trenches who want a piece of what we got to offer, so let's not disappoint 'em!"

They quickly hunched down once again, and went out the same way they came. They took a left turn instead a right back to the beach, beginning their trek through the confusing maze of trenches to reach the Brynyan command post and win the battle.

Colin was still frightened as they moved along, but he finally seemed to be getting a grip on things. Link doubted if he would actually fire his weapon when the time came, and Tancred would probably scream at him if he didn't, but at least he wasn't bawling his eyes out.

They continued to make their way through the trenches, when suddenly there was a crack, a splatter of blood, and the soldier to Link's left was on the floor with a bullet hole in his forehead.

"Take cover!"

"_Hyruleans!_"

Link quickly grabbed Colin by the scruff of his neck and pulled him into a dip in the trenches, with just enough room for the two of them to stay under cover.

"Keep down," Link said to Colin, who nodded, tears welling in his eyes yet again.

Link popped around the corner, rifle at the ready. He saw a particular Brynyan soldier scrambling for cover. He quickly took aim and fired, and was shocked at the amount of blood that spurted from the wound he inflicted to the Brynyan's neck. The first kill he had actually made consciously while looking at his enemy. It made him shudder. The enemy soldier began to gurgle as blood filled both his esophagus and his windpipe, making Link sick once again. Holding it this time, Link fired again at the dying man and put him out of his misery. He had nothing personal against the Brynyans, so why should he deliberately let them suffer more than was necessary?

He looked over to his left and saw Tancred taking cover in a dip as well, aiming his BAR at the remaining few Brynyans. He squeezed the trigger, unleashing a steady stream of bullets at their assailants. Link watched as one, two, three, four Brynyans fell dead by Tancred's BAR.

"Make sure you have your bayonets attached!" Tancred cried. "This isn't even close to the real fight, and you don't want to find yourself out of options if you run out of ammo or space when that real fight comes!"

Link fumbled with his rifle and checked to make sure the bayonet was secure. They then continued on, cautiously moving down the long corridor of trench, clambering over the sandbags placed here and there throughout them, until they reached a corner. The soldier that had helped Link open the door to the bunker led the way, and carefully peeked around the corner before they made their turn.

He didn't make a sound as he seemed to relax. Link suspected there weren't any Brynyans around the corner. Then he collapsed to the ground, a bullet hole in his forehead.

"_Ein Geschenk von der Brynyan Armee!_"

"GRENADES!" Rawne cried.

"Take cover!" yelled Tancred as several stick grenades were lobbed in their direction.

They exploded with a force which knocked Link against the trench wall hard. Colin was on the ground holding his ears as they rung painfully. Dirt was flying everywhere, and Link's ears began ringing. He hurried to his feet quickly, knowing instinctively the Brynyans would use the shock the grenade caused to quickly rush them while they were recovering.

"C'mon, Colin!" Link cried, dragging his friend to his feet. Colin, in a daze, stood in the open and raised his rifle.

"No, take cover!" Link cried, pulling him down behind some sandbags. "Shoot from here, where it's safe!"

"What are you doing?" Colin whined, his breathing becoming heavy and tears welling up _yet _again in his eyes.

"_Aaaangriff!_"

Link looked up from Colin to see almost a dozen Brynyan soldiers advancing in his direction and he cursed. When he dived into cover so hastily, he had put himself far ahead of the others, though him and Colin weren't the only one's stuck in the same situation. Rawne, Malo, and Talo were firing on the Brynyans, but they were still disoriented by the grenade barrage and their shots went wide. Link winced and ducked down as bullets began to hit the sandbags. Colin raised his head over them tentatively to see what was going on and fell backward with a cry as a bullet hit his helmet right off his head.

Link, keeping his head below the sandbags, raised his rifle up and fired blindly at where he thought the Brynyans were. There were several cries of anger and pain in the gruff Brynyan language and Link smiled weakly. He didn't know how many he hit, but even one counted for something. He brought his rifle down and rested his back to the sandbags as he fumbled to reload it.

He felt something hit the back of his head and he went flying forward. Turning over, he saw a large Brynyan standing on the opposite side of the sandbags, his rifle pointed at Link's heart. Link gulped and started to shake as the Brynyan began to squeeze the trigger.

The next thing he knew, the Brynyan collapsed, a bullet hole through his chest. Link looked over at a trembling Colin sighting with his rifle where the Brynyan had been. He dropped his rifle and wrapped his arms around his knees, rocking back and forth. Link gave him a grim smile and the thumbs up sign, but he didn't seem to notice it.

Several more gunshots sounded, followed by curses in Brynyan and cries of pain. Suddenly, Link heard someone call out to him.

"Look out, Link! Get out of the way!" yelled Talo.

Sitting up, Link saw two Brynyans running and preparing to leap over the sand bags and impale him and Colin on their bayonets. In a flash, he had picked up his rifle and fired once, dropping one in midair. The second cleared the sandbags and fired once at Link's chest as Link brought the butt of his rifle towards the soldier. In a flash of sparks the metal stock of Link's rifle deflected the bullet and slammed into the Brynyan's gut and he fell against the sandbags hard. With a sudden courage he didn't fully understand, Link stabbed the Brynyan in the gut and then ripped the bayonet from his stomach. Link then jabbed downward as the soldier fell forward, piercing through the soldier's spine and then heart, assuredly killing him.

A trio of Brynyans rushed at Link, issuing a battle cry that curdled his blood. Two fell as two rifle cracks reverberated through the air, Rawne and Eliot making their first clear kills. The final Brynyan raised his rifle high, aimed right at Link's heart. Link brought up his own rifle and jabbed the Brynyan in the stomach with the butt, catching him off guard and causing him to double over. Link then stabbed him in the stomach with his bayonet, and fired. Blood spattered all over the soldier behind him.

Link then removed the bayonet from the Brynyan's stomach and advanced on another, who was busy killing one of Link's comrades. By the time he looked up to see Link charging him, there was a bayonet inside his kidney. He arched back in pain, and began to gargle blood. The pain left him unable to do anything but scream. Link tore the bayonet from his opponent's flesh.

Sergeant Tancred rushed forward past the sandbags with Justicar Ralph and a few other soldiers whose names Link did not know at his side. One of the Hyrulean soldiers was cut down when two bullets caught him in the hip and stomach. The rest sent a vicious barrage of fire down the trench, and the remaining Brynyans at the far end that tried to scramble for cover fell stricken by the precise shots.

All the Brynyans in the immediate area were dead after that. Link stood in the midst of a great deal of corpses, realizing quite a few were his kills. He looked around and saw his comrades coming out of cover, having been providing cover fire for those stuck further down the trench in close combat, like Link, Colin, and a few other Hyrulean soldiers who were mostly dead now.

"Goddesses… how'd you survive that!?" asked Malo, who had been nearly transparent almost the entire time they had been in the trenches, as he looked towards Link and the pile of dead.

"Aires, it would seem that despite all odds, the great Goddess Farore actually wants you as one of her Lances," he growled. "So holy dog shit, it would seem you were born to be a soldier, Aires! Imagine that!"

He looked towards the trembling Colin and the dead Brynyan he had shot and smirked.

"That was some damn good shooting, maggot. Surprised even me." Colin didn't say anything and remained silent. "God damn it, Private! You had better fucking get a hold of yourself or I will unscrew your head and shit down your neck!"

Link went over to Colin and shook him, then slapped him, hard, when he didn't respond. He wanted to make sure the kid was alright, so he had to at least try and save him from Tancred's wrath. The Sergeant snorted with disdain and continued down the trench, signaling the advance as Rawne came over to help Link pick Colin up. They rounded the corner past the tangle of Brynyan dead that Tancred and his well coordinated barrage had taken down carefully. There was a short corridor before another right turn, around which another troop of Brynyans likely lurked.

"Aires," whispered Tancred. "You take point."

Suddenly, Link realized that his actions would get him labeled as a good, dependable soldier, and that reputation would last probably until the end of the war, if that ever came or if he lived that long. It's not that he wanted to be a bad soldier, he just happened to realize that it's the good soldiers who usually get shot first because they seem to lose all traces of common sense and become blind in their devotion to orders.

Nevertheless, he nodded, and slowly crept up on the corner, being as stealthy as possible. He approached the corner, put his back against the wall, and twisted at the waist to peek around, keeping his rifle ready. There were even more Brynyans than last time. Link took a quick head count and came up with about fifteen. With a whole regiment, they definitely outnumbered the Brynyans, but in the close confines of the trench numbers didn't make that great of a difference.

Tancred slowly and quietly approached Link. "Head count, Private."

"I counted fifteen, sir," Link whispered.

Without another word, Tancred detached the grenade from his lapel and popped the pin, lobbing it into the center of their ranks. It rolled through the dirt almost silently. Link was astonished when they didn't notice it. It was sure to blow any second.

It was halted by a Brynyan's boot and the soldier looked down, puzzled. Suddenly, his eyes widened with shock. He cried out and made to kick it away with his foot when it went off with a bang that seemed to shake the entire trench.

Link made sure his head was turned when the grenade detonated so he wouldn't see the results, but the sounds were enough to paint a picture for him. It sounded like a butcher had accidently dropped a huge amount of chunky, wet meat all over a cold metal surface.

Tancred silently rushed into the fray. Link, surprised, followed him, and so did the rest of the squad in quick succession, followed by older soldiers of the regiment. Even Colin was moving forward with them.

Tancred slung his BAR across his shoulders and drew his sword in the same motion, revving it up with the press of a button. It sounded like a chainsaw from a nightmare where a demented psychopath might use it to go on a killing spree. The idea made Link and many others shudder. There was smoke in the air from the grenade, but Link could make out four or five Brynyans getting to their feet, recovering from the grenade, and hordes more were pouring down the trench now. Obviously, word had finally gotten out that they had taken out the bunkers and were now spilling freely into the trenches.

The smoke settled before Tancred reached the Brynyans, but they were nowhere near ready. Link fired a shot and hit a Brynyan in the temple and dropped him instantly, and continued firing into the advancing enemy alongside grimfaced comrades.

Tancred was at a full sprint by the time he reached them, sword raised high. The first Brynyan he approached didn't even see him coming until he could see the whites of his eyes. Tancred drove his blade completely through the Brynyan's stomach, ending with it protruding considerably far out of his back. He ripped the blade out of his enemy's stomach and whirled around to slash at another's, cutting open his gut. The man's intestines spilled out and he fell to the ground in absolute agony as advancing Hyruleans trampled on them.

Like a whirlwind of steel, Tancred dismembered the right arm of a Brynyan and then decapitated him as he screamed. Blood emitted out of both wounds like a grisly parody of a fountain.

The last Brynyan Tancred could engage alone as Hyruleans spilled past him down the trench actually made an effort to fight back, but it couldn't be called much of one. He moved to hit him with the butt of his rifle, but Tancred easily dodged the attack and sideswiped him low in the knee. His leg wasn't severed, but he collapsed, his tendons cut. In the same motion he had used to cripple the soldier, Tancred raised his sword high and brought it down on the Brynyan's midriff. He cried out in pain as the spinning blade screamed and spun faster, ripping out his entrails in a terrible cascade of spurting blood and gore. Tancred withdrew the blade, leaving the Brynyan twitching as death claimed him seconds later.

"Advance!" cried Tancred, sheathing his blade and wielding his BAR again.

The horde of Brynyans charging down the trench mysteriously thinned out and eventually disappeared altogether, leaving the Hyruleans standing dumbfounded and paranoid.

"I don't like the looks of this, sir," said Link, surprised in himself for actually addressing Tancred willingly.

"I agree, Private. Something must be…up!" He dropped to the ground and aimed up at the lip of left trench wall. "Everyone get down! Get down!"

As they all dropped without hesitation on his order, artillery began to scream down around them. The earth shook and many of the men wailed in terror as explosions tore up the ground all around them. Many lost their hearing to the deafening roar. As quickly as it had begun it ended however, and there was just the ringing in their ears to break the silence.

"_Hyruleans!"_

"Brace yourselves!"

"_Töten sie! __Jeder letzte ficken Ein von ihnen_"

Suddenly, it seemed that the Brynyans from before had all reappeared as hundreds of them began charging towards the trench from what they could hear. Many fell into the trench, stricken by shots none of them had fired. As soon as they were in view however, Link and everyone else immediately opened fire. The Brynyans seemed as surprised to them as the Hyruleans were to see the Brynyans as they started falling dead in droves. They weren't dropping into the trench however. They were leaping over it, firing as they went.

They were all confused, but kept firing and didn't care what was going on. Torch, Tancred's personal aide apparently, was laying waste to a good portion of the enemy as they tried to leap the trench and went right into a wash of flame and to their deaths.

Link's clip popped out of the chamber of his rifle with the distinct _ping!_ He quickly fumbled for another clip from his ammo belt. He grabbed one and realized to his dread it was his last. He had only eight shots before he had to resort to his knife and his bayonet.

"Damn it all!" cried the suddenly not so quiet Torch. "Its empty!"

He took the tank off his bank and dropped the flamethrower, taking his Thompson from his back and unloading several rounds into the Brynyans. Suddenly, a Brynyan fell into the trench on the right side, dead, followed by many others. Soon, hundreds of cheering Hyrulean troops were leaping across the trench from the right side.

"We've got the fucking pukes on the run now! Ha ha!" Tancred punched his fist in the air and laughed loudly. "All units, forward!"

With a cry, the regiment began climbing out of the trench to join the other Hyruleans as they dashed over the trenches and towards a massive Brynyan army doing the same. The adrenaline was pumping like mad through Links veins and he fired his last eight rounds as he charged, dropping eight Brynyans with shots to the chest, stomach, and face.

"Shit," Link said under his breath when he realized he was out of ammo. As the massive close range battle raged around him, with bayonets being favored over bullets, he suddenly felt very small and insignificant. There were thousands of men from both sides, but it seemed like there were thousands more Brynyans than there were Hyruleans. He steeled himself, for all he could do now was fight it out to the death. He looked back at Colin, who was aiming his rifle shakily, but of course didn't fire.

Link looked into the legions of advancing Brynyans and rolled his eyes bitterly. To his left, Eliot cried out in agony as a Brynyan impaled him on their bayonet and threw him to the ground to let him bleed out. Seconds later but seconds to late for Eliot, Talo and Malo each fired a shot which hit the Brynyan in the head.

"Who wants to live forever anyway?" he asked to no one in particular as he glanced around at all the death. "Fight with honor…and with honor die, then. Ah well, here we go!"

He cried out loudly and so fiercely, it actually stunned the Brynyan immediately in front of him. With a powerful thrust, Link impaled him on his bayonet and then spun around to the left, ripping it out and bringing it down on an angle to cleave a Brynyan open at the collar bone.

Tancred smashed his BAR against two Brynyans head in quick succession so hard, he irreversibly damaged the interior mechanisms. Also having run out of ammo, he tossed it in the face of another and drew both his sword and pistol, following Link to his doom as he cut the stunned Brynyan's head off. The two of them created a ripple effect, and Hyruleans all across the battlefield charged with renewed ferocity into hand-to-hand combat with the Brynyans.

Link was the first to reach them. One Brynyan held his MP40 right up to Link's face and smiled. Link quickly ducked as he felt two bullets clang harmlessly against his helmet. The same helmet barreled into the Brynyan's stomach as Link kept charging forward, knocking the wind out of him and slamming him into the ground.

Link raised his rifle high and crashed it back down, straight into the Brynyan's gut. Without waiting for response, he moved on to the next enemy, who drove forth with the butt of his weapon. Link brought up his rifle to block, and the two were suddenly in a contest of strength. The larger Brynyan shoved down on him, causing his knees to bend. Link tried with all his might, but the Brynyan was much bigger and stronger than he was by far. He soon got Link down on the ground, and kicked away Link's rifle. Without hesitation began to stab with his bayonet towards Link's chest.

Link rolled out of the way at the last moment, causing the Brynyan's Karabiner 98 to slam into the dirt. Still on the ground, Link kicked the back of the Brynyan's knee as he struggled to free his bayonet from the dirt. He fell to his knees with a cry of rage. Link quickly got to his feet, drew his knife, and stood behind the Brynyan, holding the sharp blade to his throat. Without hesitating, he sliced straight across, causing blood to spew forth. His hands and knife were covered, as was the ground as the man's jugular gushed arterial blood.

Link sheathed his knife and began to pick up his rifle again, only to have it kicked away. He looked up just in time to see the toe of a Brynyan's boot as it connected hard in between his eyes, causing him to fly backward with a cry of pain. He landed on his back, the breath knocked out of him as he clutched at the bridge of his nose in pain. He blocked out the pain and drew his knife again, but the Brynyan placed a solid, steel-tipped boot on his chest and knocked the knife away with his rifle.

Link looked up at death, petrified. The Brynyan raised his rifle and laughed as he put the barrel at Link's lips.

Suddenly, the Brynyan was tossed back in a shower of brilliant sparks and embers. Link looked behind him and saw Master Chaplain Mikelus running and leaping across the trenches with a pistol in his hand and a mighty glowing sword that crackled with holy energies as he pressed the stud on the hilt.

Behind him, it seemed as if the entirety of the Hyrulean army massed behind him. A few hundred wearing glimmering green carapace armor ran right behind him, and all of them wielded similar swords and pistols, but their swords did not have the strange yellow gleam to them like Mikelus' did.

"For the glory of the Three! Din, Nayru, and Faore, grant us the power of your Divine Purgation!" Mikelus cried. Firing his pistol as he sprinted towards the Brynyans, Mikelus entire body began to glow. The rest of the elite soldiers followed behind him, screaming like fanatics as the rest of the surviving Hyrulean soldiers from the initial assault ran to rejoin their comrades in battle.

Link whooped and was immediately invigorated as he picked up his rifle again and went on to cut down several Brynyans. Ralph and Rawne, wielding salvaged Brynyan MP44s blazed away furiously at the enemy until they ran out of ammo and resumed work with bayonets. Link cracked his stock against a Brynyans skull and turned as the gleaming form of Mikelus rushed past him in his golden carapace armor.

He watched a gleaming bullet fire from Mikelus' pistol and connect with a Brynyan's head. Instead of creating a small bullet hole, his entire head was immolated by bright yellow fire from the inside out.

Then, Mikelus reached the ranks of the Brynyans proper alongside the elite troops. He holstered his pistol to get better use from his sword. Its blade hissing as his body began to even brighter, Mikelus cried out as he brought down his holy sword on a Brynyan. It sawed through his collar bone, ribcage, and then through his pelvis, with blood and organs simply falling out of the body as it was sawed completely in half by Mikelus' sword.

Mikelus and his elite unit sawed and hacked their way through the Brynyan ranks; the enemy never stood a chance. And when the Hyrulean troopers caught up to them to add their strength, they became like an unstoppable swarm that washed over the Brynyan defenses no matter how many were killed. Soon the Brynyans began to flee toward the command post, their final defense, and Link, Mikelus, Tancred and the rest of the three hundred thousand Hyruleans that had landed on the beach so far were hot on their heels.

Link stopped was temporarily deafened when an immense thunder crack split the air. Then, Mikelus held his sword into the air as lighting began to spark violently from the tip.

"Goddesses! Judge the infidels before you! HAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!" he screamed as he pointed his sword towards the Brynyans.

Time seemed to stand still as hundreds of tiny bolts of shining lightning flew towards the retreating enemy, sparking and jumping all over the place. The Brynyans screams as they were cooked alive and judged by Mikelus' purgation were gut wrenching, their pain indescribable.

The Hyruleans followed the devastated enemy army through the trenches and over them. Link looked up as he ran, realizing that they were right on the command post's doorstep as they passed by shattered walls and bunkers which had been blown apart in the bombardment. A massive Brynyan flag was waving high in the air at the top of a ruined bunker complex, and Link smiled as Tancred fired several rounds at it, the pyrepistol rounds setting it aflame.

They chased the Brynyans all the way away from the trench complex and onto the high cliffs behind the beach. Except where the view was blocked by the massive command post, they could see the fields of Termina on the opposite side of the cliffs. The Hyruleans cheered and laughed even as the Brynyans got inside and began to fire on them. The Hyruleans weren't even phased when the MG42s began to open up on them. They continued their charge despite the bullets, and the Brynyans were terrified.

Just as the first round was about to make contact with the Hyrulean ranks, Mikelus quickly muttered a short incantation, and a bright, translucent golden shield appeared in front of them. Link had never seen anything like this, and neither had any of the rest of them. It was almost more amazing then the Divine Purgation, and it deflected all the bullets headed their way, invigorating the Hyruleans even more to the point where they no longer feared death.

The shield began to falter and eventually disappeared however, Mikelus gasping for breath and covered in sweat at the exertion. Even though they could now be hit again, it didn't matter to the Hyruleans. They were so close to the command post anyway, it mattered not how many of them fell.

They burst into the command post after a quick skirmish outside, opening fire on everything inside that moved. Most of the Brynyans were killed in a matter of minutes, and those who weren't were retreating out the back entrance.

The Hyruleans cheered at their sudden victory as Mikelus and his elite cadre climbed to the top and raised the Hyrulean flag on top of the command post. Having driven the Brynyans out of Great Bay and establishing a beach head in Termina, the victory was a complete and utter success.

Despite all the celebration however, the moment was just bitter sweet. This was only the first of what would be many more battles, and they would be even bloodier and more dangerous than this one. The Brynyans had underestimated the Hyruleans and had left Great Bay undefended. Hyrule would not get so lucky again.

Collapsed outside on the steps of the command post with the surviving members of his squad, Link sighed sadly and closed his eyes. Somehow, he had actually survived. There had been so many moments where he should have died, but somehow, despite all odds, something saved him from death every time. His luck unnerved him slightly, and though he was grateful for it, he doubted that it could ever last until they liberated Ville' d'horloge.

At least Tancred wouldn't call them all worthless, inbred shit anymore, he realized.

* * *

A/N: All right, review ASAP! We need feedback from you guys! You are our inspiration, and we will be forced to discontinue this story if we don't start getting more feedback! The last chapter had over twenty hits and only ONE review!! Come on, we really need your support. Please review! 


	9. The Battle of Carentan

**Chapter 9: The Battle of Carentan**

"You wanted to see me, General Gilbear?"

"Ah, yes. Have a seat, Tancred. We need to talk."

The room was small and filled with rubble and debris, a good section of its walls and ceiling blown out and covered up cheaply with a large canvas to keep out the elements. Noise from the street several stories below drifted up and under the canvas, filling the room with a steady hum of soldiers' chatter and the grumble of various engines as they moved through the Green Zone of Carentan.

Amidst the ruination of what had once been the living room to a top floor apartment, the general had set up operations. He had put up various desks, cabinets, and tables all around the room, all of them covered and filled with thousands of files and reports, which several of the general's aides were going through at a nearby table. A side room that's use would likely never be known had now been filled with hulking radio equipment, and a stairway still standing in the room after the ceiling had been blown in led up to a small patch of what was left of the roof. There, spotters scanned the city from their perch, relaying coordinates down to the radio room to be sent to the artillery stationed in the destroyed market district.

"Jack!" called Gilbear suddenly, looking up from what he had been writing on a lengthy series of documents.

A young man in blue junior officer's clothes walked up to the front of the desk next to Tancred and saluted smartly. Tancred noted the expensive pyre pistol at his side and shook his head. There was once a day when those things had to be earned, he recalled sadly.

"Take these to Major Kyle, Jack. He should still be around the motor pool a block or so down what's left of the street." He smiled slightly at his own weak joke as Jack saluted again and grabbed the proffered stack of papers, the same the general had just finished signing off. "My adjutant," he said as Tancred watched Jack go.

"I see," Tancred said as he turned back to face the general. "Now what is it that you wanted to talk about, Gilbear? If we're supposed to drive the Brynyans out of their last holdings in the northern district, then I need as much time as I can get to prepare my men.'

Gilbear laughed lightly and leaned back in his chair, shaking his head and sighing. He was a rather portly man, a sharp contrast to Tancred's powerful and imposing figure, but a perfect testament to the easy way of life enjoyed by the upper echelons of command. He wore the gold plated fatigues with the inlaid rubies, sapphires, and emeralds common to a Hyrulean general and the gems glinted sharply under the scattered rays of sunlight poking through the canvas.

"Well old friend, that's what we have to talk about, actually," he said, staring up at the folds of the canvas as they flapped about in the wind.

"About my regiment?"

"No, about you and why you're leading a regiment, Tancred. While I personally don't doubt your ability to command one, you're just a sergeant, and a drill one at that."

"What…what are you saying, Gilbear?"

"What I'm saying, Tancred, is that my superiors have noted that you are not of rank to hold command of a regiment, though in retrospect they did know that when they put you in command. Now that they learned a little more about you though, I'm afraid they've decided it's the best story to get you out of command."

He sat back up in his chair and leaned forward over his desk, shifting the papers about as he looked through them. Suddenly, he pulled a single manila folder out of the pile and threw it into Tancred's lap. Tancred ignored it as he balled his fists in rage and slowly began shaking.

"I led the Hyrulean 96th across the beach and the trenches of Great Bay, and I led them to another victory here in Carentan, house by house, street by street, and I would now lead them when we drive out the Brynyans from Carentan once and for all! We suffered the fewest casualties of any regiment in all engagements so far, and you're telling me I'm not qualified to lead them?!" he roared, standing from his seat and banging a fist on the desk.

Gilbear raised his hands and motioned for him to sit down, his face slightly red. There was an annoyed glint in his eye as he regarded Tancred again.

"Believe me, I fully do think you are qualified to lead a regiment, I really do. Colonel Tancred does have a nice ring to it, eh? But you know as well as I do you why you were court marshaled, and then only just let back in so you could share your expertise with green recruits. The Marshals and even the Grand Marshal himself know of you and your… history, Tancred. They overlooked it at first, because we were so desperate for officers to lead our troops. But now… now they think it's just too risky to let you stay in command of the… uh, Hyrulean 96th."

He stopped and took a moment to look over the fuming Tancred, who looked about to snap off the arms of his chair he was gripping them so tightly. Shaking his head, Gilbear got out of his seat and walked over to one of the filing cabinets. Struggling with the rusty drawer for a little while, he finally managed to wrench it open, taking out the entire thing in the process. Cursing, he slammed it back in after pulling out a thick folder and slamming it down on his desk.

Sitting back down, he opened it and began to flip through its contents.

"You see this, Tancred? These are the detailed accounts of all the disciplinary actions taken against you in the past. From your humble beginnings as a lowly dog soldier to your expulsion from the Marshals and finally your court marshal. It's all here. Anyone who looks at this file can see it all, Tancred, and let me tell you, when they realized you had been put in charge of a regiment again, by pure accident since we were so desperate for field officers, they took action swiftly." He shut the file and pushed it aside, resting his elbows in its place and leaning forward. "You are effectively removed from command of the Hyrulean 96th. We can't afford another incident, especially not when the fate of the entire war and our country, the last hope of the free world actually, is balancing on a pinhead."

"So," began Tancred coolly, "What have you geniuses decided to do with me, in your infinite wisdom?"

"Believe me when I say this, I do think you deserve that second chance you so dearly want, Tancred. But no one else seems to think so. However, they do admit you can be a valuable asset if the risk you pose can be kept to a minimum."

"Oh yeah? And what the fuck does that mean?"

"You've been stripped of your rank as sergeant, meaning you're not even qualified to lead a company or train recruits back at Herra, let alone lead an entire regiment. You have instead been assigned to a squad as Justicar. You will have complete command over that squad as any other Justicar would, and the previous one has been demoted to corporal to make way for you. Oh, and I'm afraid you have no say in this. Its either that or you get a summary execution, since we hardly have the resources to spare to send one loose cannon home."

By now, Tancred's fingertips were bleeding all over the chair as he dug his nails into the arms and they splintered. Gilbear sighed and shook his head when he noticed this and leaned back in his chair again.

"You can take your adjutant with you to fill a gap in the squad, if you so wish," he added, sounding slightly hopeful that it would make Tancred a little more agreeable.

Tancred was silent. He glared daggers at Gilbear and ground his teeth profusely behind his tightly sealed lips. His eyes, projecting so much impossible emotion amidst a total emptiness, pierced deeply into the general's soul and he recoiled at the awkward sensation and looked away from Tancred, getting out from his chair and walking over to the room's one remaining window. Tancred's glare followed him all the way.

"What squad have you morons given me then?" he asked suddenly.

Turning around uneasily, Gilbear noted how suddenly calm and collected Tancred seemed. He shuddered slightly but composed himself. At least if there was a repeat incident, this time it would only be a squad of useless dog soldiers that lost their lives.

"I believe you were assigned Squad 132B of the Hyrulean 96th…"

"Meaning I'll be taking orders from whatever idiot you replaced me with? Sounds great! Have a nice war, general. I know I will."

With that he had left the room before Gilbear could even respond. Sinking down into his chair and ignoring the glances from his aides, he shuddered uncontrollably. There was something about Tancred that always unnerved him. Besides his temper and his eerie bouts of calm, there was just something off about him. Gilbear had always felt it, and though he was indeed disappointed by the loss of such talent, he was all too glad that he would no longer be dealing with him.

* * *

Carentan was a relatively small city. Its buildings were generally large and multistory, and its streets had always been filled with people and vehicles, giving it the look and feel of a larger city. Its close proximity to the beaches of Great Bay however, had turned it into a tourist town more than anything. Instead of working the thousands of acres of farmland surrounding it, its citizens worked the resorts and other attractions which had made Termina such a great vacation spot.

Around it, many smaller towns and villages held a more old fashioned and rustic look as those inhabitants worked the trackless fields of Southern Termina. Many of those accustomed to the city could also be found viewing the countryside instead of the beach if they preferred it. Farming was a deeply engraved part of Terminian culture, and even the snobbiest of city-folk felt at home in the country.

Carentan had indeed been one of the tourist capitols of the world, a hub for people all over to come and relax in the tranquility of the country, or to socialize and play on the sunny, white sand beaches of Great Bay. It was also an attraction for its random placements of still-standing ancient structures; there was an archaic Triforce cathedral and several structures that had been built thousands of years ago. Old-fashioned and still-in-use aqueducts could sometimes be seen overhead.

That was before the war came. Before the Brynyan Emperor unleashed his fury on the world and engulfed Termina in one devastating sweep. Now, most of the farming communities had been put to the torch, the fields now lying fallow and the livestock roaming free or dead from starvation. Carentan was nothing more than a bombed out shell, its once beautiful buildings and streets shattered by the ferocious battle that now raged through it.

The bombs had turned everything into a skeletal shell of its former self. Buildings teetered uneasily for days, their foundations shattered, walls and ceilings blown in, before they collapsed loudly, bringing down others with them. Craters, bodies, and burned out vehicle hulls clogged the streets everywhere. Clean up crews scrambled to clear the southern, eastern, and western regions of the city as Hyrulean troops poured into the Northern districts through those choked passageways.

Brynya had made a stand there, and was deeply entrenched. The fighting was close and bloody. Many men could hear their enemies before they could see them, and sometimes the breathing of enemy soldiers would be louder than the falling shells. Fires raged and burned throughout the day and night, reducing whole blocks to ashes as shells fell from both sides on a regular basis. Northern Carentan was quickly becoming stomped flat by the constant hammering of artillery and the savage infantry war that raged around the falling shells and flames.

It was not just a great battle, but the first armor engagement of the war. Both Brynyan and Hyrulean tanks dueled as they prowled the streets for prey. Like massive and mighty hunters, the armored behemoths tore everything in their path to pieces, and the crews cared little for who or what got in the way. Entire buildings were demolished as ambitious tankers decided to make their own paths through the city.

Amongst the chaos, the infantry advanced steadily. Dodging from cover to cover, building to building, the soldiers of Hyrule moved into enemy territory under constant fire, sending furious salvos of lead back at the distant Brynyan positions.

Advancing alongside the tanks of the 15th Hyrulean armor division, the men of the Hyrulean 96th advanced through the burning streets safer than most. Where much of the other infantry walked the streets exposed, the 96th had been ordered forward with the tankers as part of a more orderly second wave, with infantry and armor offering close support for one another. So far, it was working better than the wave tactics the commanders thought would overrun the Brynyans.

Link, taking cover behind a Conqueror main battle tank, cast a wary glance down the street as the tank at the front of the column fired its main cannon at a crumbling building where trails of machine gun fire had been raining down on the infantry further up. There was a loud crack as the shell tore through the structure before hitting a solid wall somewhere it couldn't penetrate and stopping dead. The shockwaves from the impact apparently were enough though, and the entire thing collapsed in on itself. A large plume of dust rose from the ruins along with the muffled shouts of the Brynyans trapped under it.

Shuddering, Link looked away from the sight as he walked past it now that the machine guns were no longer a threat, not wanting to think about the slow and painful death that awaited those trapped under the rubble. Jogging up behind him were the other members of squad 132B, and many hundreds of other troops who had been pinned down by the machine guns. Link saluted Ralph as he approached, but the Justicar merely waved him at ease and signaled them to keep advancing down the street.

"What's the situation then, sir?" asked Rawne as caught up.

"The Brynyans are entrenched deeply in the northern districts of the town, as you can tell since that's where we are obviously. They've proven capable of warding off the balls-to-the-wall approach command seems to have favored so far in all our battles," he explained with just a hint of annoyance. "So now, they're sending up a second wave to save the troops stranded when the charge floundered, and we're to advance slow and steady, securing every single block of this damned place."

They all nodded in understanding and fell into step behind him, keeping silent for the most part as they advanced slowly and cautiously alongside the rest of the regiment. The only noise was the rumble of the tanks as they moved down the center of the street between the infantry on the sidewalk.

Link remembered the tractors he had driven back on the farm. He had thought they were big enough, but the tanks were absolutely enormous, at least as tall as two very large men and as long as at least four. Their cannons weren't actually as large as he had imagined, but he could still fit his entire arm up to the shoulder in them easily.

They were noisy too, and he almost wanted to cover his ears whenever one moved past them, its engine screaming loudly alongside the clanking of many gears and rotors. All the same, he was grateful for their presence. Looking up around at the tall buildings, he knew in any one of them could be a machine gun team or a sniper just waiting to pick off vulnerable infantry. If any Brynyans tried that now though, they'd be turned to mush by a quick tank retaliation.

"The square of the northern residential district is just ahead. There should be a large statue of the Three in the center," said Ralph as they rounded a street corner with the tanks.

Around the corner was indeed the square, with a golden statue of the Three, paid for by Carentan's wealth, standing tall and proud in the center, surrounded by fountains and a beautiful garden. All around the square, the tall apartment buildings posed a serious threat to Hyrulean forces if any Brynyans had taken shelter inside.

As if to confirm the obvious, several loud shots cracked the air and four soldiers near the front of the column fell over in a shower of blood, dead.

"Snipers!" someone yelled.

The tanks suddenly roared into action, doubling their speed and surging forward into the square, side-sponsors and coaxial guns raking the buildings ahead with tremendous firepower. Taking potshots with their main cannons, the tanks lined up as several squads dashed into cover behind them while the rest of the regiment waited back in cover, machine gun and sniper fire raining down over their heads the whole time. As luck would have it, squad 132B was one of those sent forward.

A tank further down the line near the left end was struck by a _Panzerschreck_ in the turret-basket, shrapnel and flame exploding through a small puncture hole and cooking off the munitions inside. The crew butchered by the shrapnel, the tank sat in line uselessly until a second shot to the front hull punctured deep and blew it up in a massive fireball. Shrapnel sprayed everywhere, and many soldiers fell over stricken by the raining, hot metal.

Link gritted his teeth as some of the pieces flew past his face while he ducked behind another tank for cover. He jumped back in shock and landed on his rear as the machine roared, firing its main cannon towards the buildings and scoring a hit which gouged out a good section of the front wall of one. Shaking his head, he grabbed his rifle and got back up, walking behind the tank as it slowly inched across the square.

The entire tank line was doing the same thing; moving in synch across the open ground, firing with everything they had while giving the infantry the cover they needed to advance and clear out the buildings for good. It was a brilliant tactic, Link thought. One that could only be performed if infantry and armor worked together, instead of just outright charging into battle with wave tactics like command had mindlessly done before. Even Link, who obviously had no strategic or tactical experience, could tell that that was a very dumb idea.

There proved to be one flaw in the attack, however. Reaching the center of the cobblestone square, the tanks stopped moving but continued to fire. Ralph and two other Justicars were arguing heatedly over the radio with the commander of the tank brigade, but the reply seemed staunch. Confused, Link chanced a look around the tank. He slapped his forehead and leaned back against the tank, sinking to the ground. The other soldiers around him gave him a strange look.

"Of all the irony…" Link muttered.

Rawne and Talo raised their eyebrows questioningly and mimicked him, looking around the tank. They pulled their heads back with similarly annoyed expressions.

"Just move! Run the damn thing over you morons!" screamed Ralph several tanks down.

Barring the way of the Hyrulean advance, was the symbol of the thing they all held dearer than their own lives. The statue of the Three.

As a tank erupted in a fireball on the right end of the line when several _Panzerschrecks_ hit it at once, the tanks edged forward slightly, almost angrily. One on the left end squeezed forward past the monument and onto the other half of open ground past it, resuming its advance on the Brynyan positions. It would have continued to do so, had its entire turret not been knocked off, its right track shredded and mutilated, and its main gun sent spinning away dangerously by the blast.

The crew attempted a suicidal evacuation from the crippled tank. Just as they were climbing out of the hatch however, it burst with a huge explosion as the Brynyan tanks slowly moved out of the side streets at the far right corner of the square, firing on the Hyrulean tanks as soon as they got a target.

The Conquerors lurched forward suddenly, crushing the statue underfoot as the line charged eagerly towards the Brynyan Saber tanks. Infantry scrambled after the tanks, stepping carefully over the ruins of the statue. Link took a moment and paused, looking down at the somber faces of the three goddesses as they stared up at him. Nayru's shy smile, Din's mischievous grin, and Farore's resolute frown. They transfixed him.

_The world's fate… _he heard Nayru's soft voice whisper.

…_by your hand it hangs… _chimed Din.

…_a destiny bound in the breaking of chains… _intoned Farore.

_Take the three! _they screamed in unison.

His mind was reverberating with their heavenly voices. He forgot where he was.

A shell streaked through the air from a Saber tank that had gone through the line of Conquerors when the tanks clashed. It left a strange corkscrew wake in the air behind it as it streaked through the air and landed several meters away from Link. He was flung back by the force of the blast, landing in an uncurious heap on the far side of the ruins.

"Link!" screamed Colin from the squad's hiding spot behind a destroyed Saber.

He made to dash out but was firmly restrained by Malo and Talo. Struggling against them wildly, Rawne had to step in to ensure he would not break free. Ralph came over and stood in front of Colin, forcing him down with some effort.

"You sure are stronger than you look, ya know that kid? But even so, I'm not letting you go out there. Its suicide!"

"But Link is in trouble!" he protested.

"As much as I hate to say it, there isn't anything we can do for Link," Ralph said, shaking his head. "He's a damn fine soldier, he's proved that to us all quite a few times despite the youth of this war, but it's his own damn fault he's damned now. I mean, what kind of idiot stops dead to stare at some fallen statues when there are fucking tanks dueling right in front of them?"

Colin rolled his eyes as Ralph carried on with his tirade, capturing the full attention of the rest of the others.

"…it's actually just best if we sit here behind this hunk of junk and wait until the tanks are done blowing each other up. I don't care if we have orders to take those buildings, I'm not going out there to be shredded and-"

"Umm, sir?" interrupted Talo.

"What is it?" Ralph snapped.

"Private Colin is gone."

"What?!"

Sure enough, when Ralph looked around, Colin was nowhere to be seen. Glancing around the tank, they saw the boy sprinting across the square towards Link's unconscious body, narrowly missing death as several tank shells and bullets flew impossibly close to his head.

"The damn kid is blessed, sir! Nothing is killing him!" shouted Rawne, half amazed and half perplexed.

"That son of a bitch…" muttered Ralph in annoyance.

Stumbling through the wake of several close impacts, Colin coughed and sputtered on the dirt and dust that was kicked up around him. The left side sponsor of a Conqueror was blown off in a flurry of sparks, the gun's munitions discharging as it hit the ground and blowing pieces of the tiled plaza floor through the air. One spinning tile narrowly missed taking off the better part of Colin's face and instead cut a deep gouge in his left cheek.

Crying out, he collapsed to the ground and clutched his wound painfully. He felt the tears beginning to form in his eyes as he looked up through blurred vision. His misty eyes could just barely make out Link's limp form lying amidst the statue's rubble.

Gritting his teeth, he remembered Great Bay. He remembered the beach and how he swore death was near. He remembered Link crossing the beach against all odds, risking life and limb to rescue him from certain doom where he was pinned down. How could he let Link down now?

"I owe him…too much to ever repay him," he groaned as he got to his knees and began to crawl forward. "But, I have to try… I won't let him die…"

Reaching Link's body, Colin tried to shake him, but quickly gave up and began to think of a way to get him to safety. Trying to move him, he found that he was too weak to carry Link. Despairing, he collapsed next to Link in the ruins, crying.

"Talo and Malo are right about what they said back in Herra… I am useless! I can't even save Link when he needs me, even after all the times he's saved my butt…"

Stray shells, _Panzerschreck_ rounds and bullets landing around him, Colin's crying was drowned out by the roar of the raging tank battle barely a hundred meters away. Closer still, Ralph and the others stood in hiding, torn by their own indecision.

"Goddesses!" screamed Colin as he looked down on the shattered visages of the three sacred deities. "Help me, please! I beg you…"

Looking up, he saw the Hyrulean tanks and infantry being beaten back savagely by the stalwart Brynyan armored counter-thrust. In less than a minute, almost thirty Sabers and hundreds of Brynyan infantry would be storming across the square in hot pursuit.

"Oh, Nayru! Din! Farore!? Any of you! All of you…?" Colin whined as he looked down at Link's still motionless form. "I can't just leave him here, but I'm not strong enough to move him either! Oh god… What the heck am I supposed to do now? Pray!?"

Suddenly his face lit up. It seemed strange to him too, but all the same it felt like the right thing to do. With one final frightened glance at the advancing tanks and a hopeful one at the faces of the statue, Colin began to pray.

* * *

Standing alone near the edge of the cell, Beth watched with distant eyes the activities of the camp around her. Wrapped in a blanket now nothing more than a tattered rag for protection from the fierce winds which always seemed to assault the facility, she shivered almost uncontrollably. Her expression was terribly poignant, and all the guards that passed by avoided her gaze and flinched if they made eye contact. Not all of them were monsters brainwashed by Brynyan propaganda. They didn't want to be reminded of the horrible things they were helping to further, but didn't care enough to try and stop them. Some of them were monsters however, and they laughed when they saw her, wretched and terrified as she was.

She watched the other prisoners in the other holding areas too. Some were in large, open areas like she was, with ample room for new prisoners sure to come in the future. Others were in tiny and confined spaces that barely gave them room to move about and stank of poverty worse than even the larger cells. It seemed strange that some would have partial comfort and others be subjugated to extreme suffering, but she understood why they were in those tiny cells and she was in a spacious one.

The faithful all had a place in those cramped places. Those who claimed the Three as their path were condemned to rot away slowly until their deaths came. For them this was a death camp, but for her it was merely imprisonment. Beth had given up her faith, casting away her beliefs for a right to life. That was the law of the camp. Relinquish your faith in the false deities of the Three of suffer.

Beth sniffed, sinking to her knees and tearing up as she remembered it all too well. That day which now seemed so long ago, and really was so very long ago. The day that had raped her religion and cast down her Gods in front of her very eyes. Her young, innocent eyes.

* * *

_The shells had begun to fall at midnight. They had all been asleep, the entire village, and the guns had been so far away, behind the hills. Not even the flashes that lit up the horizon when they fired were visible. It was only when the first of them came crashing down, splintering Old man Theragin's house in an instant and burying the kind old soul forever beneath the ruins, that they were even somewhat aware of what was happening. _

_Panic engulfed everyone in the village as they ran about screaming in terror, unsure of what they should do or where they should go. People tried to grab as much as they could from their homes and leave, only to walk outside and see everything being torn to pieces by the falling munitions. Some tried to brave it, others went back into their homes and locked the doors, collapsed to the floor, and prayed with all their hearts and souls to the Goddesses._

_Staring out the window, young Beth Pulksky could see everything. The explosions as shells struck houses and ignited them in a great gout of flame, the showers of dirt as they continuously pounded the ground. She even saw the gore as it was flung through the air, the remnants of those who tried to brave the storm of falling shells and run for safety. Entire families, husbands and wives, children and grandchildren, brothers and sisters. Gone in an instant._

_Something came over her suddenly as she heard her mother screaming and running up the stairs towards her room. She pulled off her necklace and looked it over longingly one last time as she pulled her tiny tin lockbox out from under her bed. Tears came to her eyes as she viewed the contents for what she felt would be the last time. With a sob, she cast the necklace in with all her other childhood memories, the turquoise gem glinting weakly in the light of an exploding shell outside. A single tear fell after it, and it seemed to glow as it struck it._

_But Beth did not notice. As soon as the necklace was in she shut the lockbox, locked it, and shoved it back under her bed, giving a quick prayer that its contents would be safe. Something told her, where she was going, it would just be better to let them there._

_Her door burst open as her mother stormed in, her face almost transfixed with fear. Mother and daughter ran to each other, and Beth buried her face in her mom's shoulder as she cried in terror. Seeing her mother in such a dreadful state had been the last straw for young Beth._

"_It's ok baby… It's alright, mommy's here." her mother cooed softly._

_Holding her trembling daughter close, Beth's mother ran from the room and down the stairs. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she stumbled and fell as the entire house shook. A shell had just come through the window and demolished Beth's room, taking half the house with it. _

_Their home falling apart around them, they ran outside as everything came crashing down. With a tumultuous groan, the burning structure folded in on itself and sent up a cloud of ash and smoke. Cinders fell like rain as Beth and her mother struggled through the panic-stricken masses of people. Amongst the chaos, the small young woman and her tiny daughter were a barely noticeable obstacle to the rest. They were pushed and shoved and crushed against everyone around them as they fought to reach the one place that beckoned to them. _

_The Cathedral of the Three. Built on the grounds of the dead city of Verlorenstadt, it commemorated the many brave men of Hyrule, Termina, and Seleucia who gave their lives to drive Brynya from the region during the Great War. It seemed so large and safe compared to the small and pitiful huts and hovels of the villagers, built from solid stone and decorated so finely with the heraldry of the Church. _

_Breaking from the crowd despite the press against her, Beth's mother ran for the steps to the grand cathedral, carrying her wailing daughter firmly in her arms. The Brothers and Sisters stood outside, holding the mighty oaken doors open wide as they ushered screaming people towards safety. Shells that struck the cathedral merely burst against the stone or ricocheted off, as if the building itself was under some divine protection._

_As they reached the top of the steps, the bullets began to fly from the burning southern quarters of town. People were mowed down in droves as they pushed forward with redoubled efforts towards the sanctuary of the cathedral. Few would make it, and even Beth's mother, mere yards from the doors, fell over, a bullet in her spine. _

_Beth would have tumbled from her mother's arms, but as she died her arms locked around her daughter like a vice. Beth screamed and begged her mother to get up, but there was nothing to be done. One of the Sisters saw the distressed child and came over, ducking as the forms of advancing Brynyan infantry moved across Cathedral Square. _

_Trying to pull Beth free, the young Sister could do nothing against the dying mother's stalwart grip. She knelt down close, wiping the blood from the dying woman's mouth with the sleeve of her silken white robe. The Sister saw her watching from half open eyes, trying to form a smile as the last of her energy departed from her broken body._

"_Be at peace, daughter of the Three…" whispered the Sister solemnly as she grabbed the screaming Beth from her mother's limp arms. _

_Holding her new charge close, the Sister ran through the doors with the final survivors of the village. Two Brothers pulled the doors shut as bullets began stitching across them. One fell dead as a bullet found his forehead, and the other one fell to his knees in shock and began to weep at the sudden and shocking loss. As he recovered, he scrambled to close the other door as a Brynyan soldier, a hulking and slavering maniac with an oversized bayonet attached to his rifle, charged through the opening. _

_He turned to hack through the stunned Brother, but was suddenly flung back out the doors by a tremendous impact in his chest, blood spewing. Throwing the Brother the still smoking shotgun, a wizened old priest stepped forward and pulled the door shut, dropping a heavy iron latch into place and walking back towards the rear of the cathedral. The Brother, completely shocked, sat motionless for several moments before he shot up after the priest._

"_Secure the doors, my children. They won't hold for long against these savages as they are now."_

"_Yes, Father."_

_Lifting her head, Beth stared around through tear-filled eyes. Everything was blurry and she couldn't make sense of all the sounds and sights. The over-stimulation of her sense made her want to scream, but she found herself feeling oddly calm. There was a sensation hanging on the air, one of order and peace, that seemed to soothe her mind and coax her back from the brink of panic._

_Only when her mind went to her mother, lying slain on the cathedral steps, did tears start to fall from her eyes. She wept, but she did not cry out. Looking up as she cried, she saw the inside of the cathedral. Though many times before she had been inside, for prayer services, communal weddings and funerals, never before did it seem too magnificent to her. A radiance like no other was shining from the cathedral. It filled her soul and she sat up, looking around._

_The kind Sister who had carried her to safety deposited her on a one of the pews along with many other children. They were all scared and being held tight by their mothers if they hadn't met the same fate as Beth's. She would have felt jealous of them, for she wanted nothing more at the moment than the comforting embrace of her mother, but something she couldn't explain was coming over her. _

_Sliding off the pew, she became aware of all the action going on around her. People, rushing through the cathedral in a panic, dragging pews and chairs and tables and barricading the doors. The head Bishop was directing the lowering of the emergency shutters over the stained-glass windows. All adults, all deathly afraid. She would show them. She would not be afraid of the nightmare outside. _

_As she moved to the aisle, Beth weaved in between and under legs as everyone continued moving around her. No one took notice of the small girl as she ran up towards the altar at the end of the cathedral. Even the head Bishop was gone, moving his great girth about and directing his subordinates, for he could do little physical work himself._

_The altar was empty when Beth reached it, though she was not interested in that. Staring upon the statue of the Goddesses that stood behind the altar, she felt suddenly calm and safe. Goodwill seemed to radiate from it and she turned around, gazing out on the entirety of the cathedral interior. Her eyes shimmering with a holy light, she watched the people as they ran about in a panic until the shell came crashing through one of the large stained-glass windows flanking the main doors. _

_In an enormous inward explosion of glass and wood from the emergency shutter, the shell rocketed through the air towards the rear of the cathedral. Beth watched it come, almost in slow motion. It struck the statue of the Three and it burst. Flung down the aisle by the impact, Beth lay motionless as the pieces rained down around her. _

_Moments later, the doors were shattered and nearly a score of people were killed when they were thrown open. Plowing through the doors and most of the front wall with its main cannon, the Titan tank scanned the interior before firing two shells from its duel-barreled gun which obliterated the rear wall and brought much of it crashing down. Many cowering villagers were crushed but the cathedral as a whole remained standing._

_Brynyans poured in past the tank, herding anyone still alive into the aisle. They unintentionally clustered around Beth's still form, hands on their heads and resting on their knees as they stared at the ground, scared for their lives. The Brynyans beat many down to unconsciousness if they didn't do exactly as they were told, and several gunshots rang out as impetuous citizens who tried to forcefully resist were shot dead. Brothers and Sisters wept as they saw innocent blood spill out on the holy grounds of the cathedral. _

_The soldiers suddenly went rigid and stood at attention. Footsteps echoed slowly through the cathedral as a figure approached past the idling Titan, through the smoke and flames that were catching around it. Each soldier thrust a hand in the air as the figure walked past. Scores of men, their forms hidden by obsidian battle suits and helmets, saluting a mysterious and dreadful figure. It was the thing of nightmares, the thing all the villagers had harbored as their greatest fear. The Brynyans...a society of numbers, where the individual was just another cog, dressed in black, in the grand machine. Now that society was upon them. They wept and silently begged to be shot, rather than suffer in such a cruel world._

_Coming to a halt before the huddled and whimpering mass, the figure took off his helmet and sneered at them, his long black cloak billowing around him in the night air that was now rushing through the cathedral. Stroking the orange hair of his beard, he looked over them and laughed. He drew a pistol from his side holster and cocked it slowly, glaring darkly at each and every captive before him._

"_I am a Blade of the Empire. I am a hunter, a butcher, a savage. I stalk my prey and strike it before it has a chance to fight back...like your little village here. I serve my Emperor, the Emperor, Dietfreid Arglist!" he roared, pointing the pistol towards random people, causing them to flinch and recoil in terror. "I am Colonel Dragmire!"_

"_You have a choice before you all now," he continued. "Yes, a choice for all the world to make, starting here with you! Your false Goddesses, hah! Or servitude to the Empire? Make your choice wisely, fools..."_

_There was silence amongst the captives. Their faith was everything to them. In mind body and soul, they served the Goddesses. But now, their lives were on the line. The lives of their families, too. Life or death...faith or life. How could they let their families die? How could they abandon the Three?_

_The head Bishop cleared his throat and all eyes turned towards him. _

"_We cannot forsake our faith, certainly not to the likes of you. The Goddesses transcend all, and we cannot simply abandon them for something so petty as our lives. All of us will gladly fall to you before giving up on the Three. One day, the flames of divine judgment will fall from the skies and meat out those heathens who would seek to undo their great works." _

"_Are you done?" asked Dragmire with a laugh. "Well, if that's the way it's going to be..."_

_Beth opened her eyes and looked up. The good will was gone, and she was alone and frightened once again. Whatever had possessed her small body had been destroyed with the statue. She jumped at the gunshot and felt herself die inside as the head Bishop's body fell to the floor with a dull thud. Blood poured forth from the bullet hole in his throat and he gurgled weakly as the last of his strength dissipated. _

"_...then your faith is done. Your Goddesses are dead, your relics are worthless, your priests and their holy texts filled with nothing but bombastic trash! There is only one true lord for this world!" He fired his gun into the air several times as he roared out key words for added affect. _

_Holstering his gun, he turned around quickly, twirling his cape around as he went. The movement scattered dust and small bits of rubble along the floor. Soldiers moved in and began restraining everyone in bonds as he left._

"_That lord is the Kaiser, Dietfreid Arglist. There can be no other."_

* * *

When she awoke, Beth found herself lying on the ground, curled up in a pitiful ball. Night had fallen awhile ago, and the winds whipping through the compound from the planes outside was fiercer than usual. It was cold and it howled angrily, as if it was railing against the abomination erected in its path by the Brynyans. She shivered and wrapped her tattered blanket around her tighter.

It seemed fitting to her that she should suffer. She had chosen life over the Three, relative comfort over the suffering of the faithful in the pitiful and tiny cells. She deserved those small cells. If this was Hell, then she welcomed it. There was little else she deserved more for abandoning her faith. Once, she recalled having confided this in Svnier. The giant from the north believed in a far different interpretation of the Three than any of the clergy learned by Hyrulean dogma, but nonetheless worshipped the same basic principles.

She could still remember him chuckling when she had finished. He told her that this place, the prison, was not Hell, at least not to him. With such a beautiful and pristine youth as herself in it, how could it be? She had blushed at that joke, but then felt almost prideful when he said she reminded him of his own daughter, far away in the Northlands, now forever lost to him.

Then, he grew grim and called her a fool. An absolute silly fool. It had hurt, and she tried to ask why, but he had read her mind. He told her that to think she deserved punishment was absolutely foolish. There was no greater shame than forsaking the Three, yes, he had agreed on that. But then, were the Three not all powerful? Did they not transcend time and space? Why should they care if one poor little girl gave up on them to save her life when she had hardly gotten a chance at life? Surely, the Three were not that stingy. They would forgive her.

She laughed a little at the memory, and felt his words ring true once more. Over the years being trapped in the prison with him and the others, she confided many things, but as the years passed she forgot them all the same.

But now, she could remember that time, and Svnier's words too. They seemed to mean more to her now as she laid there on the cold, hard ground, staring into the darkness through the bars of their cell. The piteous moans of other prisoners drifted through the blackness, and it was hard to distinguish between them and the wind much of the time.

Sighing deeply, she decided it was well overdue that she should ask the Goddesses for their forgiveness. It was dark. The guards wouldn't see. She clasped her hands together and began to pray, for the first time in almost ten years.

It felt good. She gasped in surprise as she felt her spirits lift instantly. No longer could she feel the wind and the cold, or the feeling of impending doom which seemed to have hung over her for as long as she could remember. All that she felt was a feeling of immeasurable good will rising up from the depths of her soul. Nothing she could remember had ever made her feel so good.

And so she prayed under the cover of darkness. For forgiveness. For her friends and companions. Her family, wherever they may be. All the lives lost and displaced by the Brynyans. But above all, she prayed for those soldiers fighting the Brynyans in far off lands to end the nightmare. She prayed with all her heart that the Goddesses would be with them.

Something, an instinct deep inside perhaps, told her that they needed her prayers more than ever.

* * *

"Goddesses, please," Colin spluttered through his tears as he clasped his hands together in a hasty prayers. "I am asking for thy strength, Din! Farore, thy courage, and Nayru, thy wisdom! I can't do this alone, and Link is going to die if I don't help him! Please, I—"

Suddenly, as a tank round exploded dangerously close to him, a soldier bounding over the ruins in retreat fell backwards with a scream. Stricken by all manners of shrapnel and bullets, he landed next to Colin, motionless. There was a mix of fear and shock etched on his face, his mouth slightly agape at the pain going through his body before he died, as a puddle of blood quickly began to form under him.

Colin was disgusted, retched and nearly threw up, and averted his eyes. Even so, he couldn't resist the call of some mysterious instinct to look back. Instead of noticing the soldier, however, he noticed something else. The weapon the young man had been carrying with him before his death lay next to his broken body, and it was a beast of a thing compared to the standard infantry rifle.

It was a bazooka, a weapon that was little more than a long tube with a trigger and crosshairs. Colin had some idea of how to use it; he had been trained with it a little bit during basic training and he had seen it many times throughout the battle of Carentan. What was most important about this weapon though, was what it could do. It was a tank killer.

Trembling with both fear and resolve, Colin quickly scrambled over to the weapon and picked it up. Fumbling with it at first, he hoisted it onto his shoulder. It was surprisingly light and he didn't have too much trouble lifting it. He checked inside it and, to his immense relief, a rocket was already loaded.

He turned back to the Brynyan controlled part of the square, where Hyrulean tanks and infantry were still in retreat from the Brynyan counterattack. There were significantly more Brynyan tanks than Hyrulean ones, and they were losing more than could safely get away. He gulped.

He didn't know what kind of damage he could do with just one bazooka. When he thought about it, he realized all he would probably do is draw attention to himself after killing one tank, if he was lucky. It would only take moments for the tanks to lock on and blow him into millions of bloody pieces. He shuddered at the thought, and realized that if that happened, then Link would die too.

He's going to die anyway, Colin thought as he brought the bazooka to bear on the closest tank. Tucked safely amidst the rubble of the statue, there was no way the Brynyans would see him. At least until the smoke trail of the bazooka gave him away. Sighting through the crosshairs, he was about to squeeze the trigger and pray that he took at least one tank with him when he stopped, lowered the bazooka, and looked up.

He noticed that the tanks were advancing in a single solid line, firing straight ahead and devastating everything that got in the way. In less than ten seconds, they would be directly underneath the aqueduct Colin had seen when they first moved into the square. He had noticed there were a lot of relics like that in Carentan; old structures from times immemorial that still stood, unused but worth preserving for historic significance.

Silently thanking whoever had decided to preserve at least that part of the aqueduct, he sighted through the crosshairs again and angled the weapon upwards. The aqueduct was old, large, and made of very thick and heavy stone. One powerful blast to the center would bring the entire thing crashing down. Goddesses knew how many tons of stone, crushing the Brynyan tanks underneath it to oblivion, and the infantry and tanks behind it wouldn't be able to get past it.

He saw his target: around the middle, a large crack was forming in the stone. Shockwaves from earlier shelling had made his job much easier.

Without hesitation, Colin pulled the trigger, releasing the rocket from its chamber. Even though a bazooka was designed as a recoilless weapon, Colin was completely knocked flat by sheer panic at the scream of the rocket as it flew towards its destination. His head hit the face of the collapsed Farore statue with a crack and he went limp, unconscious.

He didn't get to see the destruction he caused, but he likely would have fainted from the sight anyway.

There was a tense silence that seemed to hang over the square when the rocket hit the aqueduct. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as a large chunk of the structure was blown out and the last stones holding it together began to slip and fall out of place. The shockwaves from the impact rippled along it, and hairline cracks everywhere were rapidly expanded as more stones fell away from their neighbors.

In just a few seconds, an enormous deluge of super heavy stone blocks were cascading down on top of the Brynyan tanks. Effortlessly, the stones smashed the tanks to smithereens. Some blew up as the fuel tanks were hit or their munitions ruptured. Within half a minute, the entire thing had come down over the square, crushing the Brynyan armor underneath it and a lot around it as well as the stones rolled off the main pile.

The faces of the Goddesses seemed to be smiling at Colin's still form. The entire Brynyan counter attack had been annihilated by the efforts of one boy. One cowardly young boy who had risked everything to save a friend, and became a hero in his own right.

A new legend was beginning.

* * *

A/N: Well, sorry for the delay. But hey, it's another battle for y'all! Haha well we would love more reviews, so any you can manage to contribute would be great. Really. Read and review please. We're already working on chapter 10.


	10. Aftermath

**Chapter 10: Aftermath**

LinkIsaacANDLloyd's AN: Well, compared to the vast delay last time, I'd say this was nothing. Well, its chapter ten now. Woohoo, yea? The double digits! Anyway, I especially took offense when a certain someone called the characters static. All of them. Well, it was a nice wake up call I suppose, but we'll just see about that. Enjoy this chapter, and know that some very big things are going to happen to Link, Colin, Malon, and the rest quite soon. I'd say one of the biggest plot twists you've ever seen will be coming by, oh, chapter 20 or so, in fact. Let's just hope it doesn't take us a year to get there, haha.

* * *

And so it was, when the sun next rose, that the Hyruleans had taken the city of Carentan. After nearly a week of vicious combat and slow progress, a quarter of a million troops and fifty thousand armored vehicles under the command of General Gilbear drove out the last of the Brynyan defenders. Of the fifty proud regiments who entered that battle, five were completely annihilated, seven severely broken and depleted, and the rest suffering their own share of casualties.

The city was left in a condition even worse than even the most devastated regiment. Entire blocks had been leveled during the final assault. Tanks had made their own paths through the ancient and crumbling buildings, causing senseless amounts of destruction. Artillery was fired without a care, bringing down homes that had withstood everything else that came against them for almost a thousand years. But despite the wanton destruction the Hyruleans wreaked on the Brynyans and their holdings, they still had the power to force a counter thrust with their superior tanks through the main square, and for a time the Hyruleans had been routed.

Fate had been with the armies of the Three that day however, and part of the city's ancient aqueduct, preserved for historic significance, had come tumbling down over the square. Countless tons of ancient rock had smashed the Brynyan armor force to pieces and sent their infantry retreating in a panic. The streets around the square had been strewn with Hyrulean dead as the Brynyan counter attack moved unabated down those avenues.

The regiments moving through the square, the Hyrulean 96th Infantry and the Hyrulean 15th Armor, earned themselves many commendations that day. With the aqueduct blocking off the Brynyan controlled part of the square and that entire section of their counter attack, they spilled out into the side streets and met the Brynyans at their flanks. As Brynyans doubled back to defend their vulnerable flanks, the Hyruleans they had previously been driving back fell on them like a storm.

Under attack from both their crumbling front and already very weak sides, the Brynyan formations collapsed in on themselves. The Hyruleans created a vicious crossfire, transforming the streets into killing fields as the Brynyans ran around confused. There was more than one report of Brynyans firing on each other in their panic. A curtain of precision artillery from the Hyrulean batteries effectively cut the city in half. There was nowhere for the Brynyans to run, and the forces of their counterattack were driven against the artillery curtain and completely slaughtered to the last man.

The men of the now heroic 96th led the charge into the then under-defended Brynyan holdings in the northern districts, riding on the tanks of the 15th boldly. Behind them came the full fury of the Hyrulean forces in the city, sweeping every square foot and shooting all the Brynyans they came across. There were no prisoners. Only the Brynyan general, Hans Berdichsnacht, and his closest staff members were taken alive.

Charged with subduing them and bringing them in alive for questioning, was squad 132B of the Hyrulean 96th. The men of the squad had gained nearly legendary status amongst the regiments of Gilbear's army.

It was a resounding victory for Hyrule, but at a grim cost. Carentan was almost completely reduced to rubble and ash, and at least thirty six thousand soldiers had lost their lives in just the short span of a single week. Combined with the battles of Great Bay, the death toll had reached upwards of fifty thousand, and the war in Termina had only just begun. But with their faith in the Three, the Hyruleans looked ever onwards upon the vast expanse of the nation they were sworn to liberate. Millions of Brynyans still stood strong, marching to counter Hyrule's gambit with almost fanatical determination.

The war had barely just begun and though Carentan had been bloody, it was nothing compared to what awaited the Hyruleans next: crossing the boundless green fields of Termina. Were they to be victories, the coming battles would forever be remembered in the annals of Hyrulean history. But if the Hyruleans were defeated, then they would all be forgotten under the fanatical oppression of the Brynyan Empire, and history would never remember the men who died fighting for a free world.

* * *

"So, remind me again why we're just standing around here?" asked Malo sourly.

"Fine, but this is the last time before I just deck ya and shut ya up," growled Rawne. "It's rather simple…"

He leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on the table, crossing his ankles and taking a deep draw of the cigar in his mouth, then removing it with a deep, smoky exhale. He tapped the lit end lightly and ash drifted slowly to the dusty floor. Before putting it back in his mouth, he used it to point to the three people bound back to back in chairs and gagged in the center of the room.

"Seeing as how we got lucky enough to find these idiots, it's only fair that we get to guard them until the proper authorities get here. Right, Talo?"

Talo sighed and set his rifle against the wall, walking over to the room's one window. No one seemed to notice it slide down the wall and hit the floor with a light thump. No one, except the three people bound in the center of the room.

"Well, I think we should have just shot 'em in the head and been done with it. They're bastards like the rest, ain't they? Why spare em'?" He turned to address Malo on the other side of the room. "What do you think, Malo? We wasting our time with these losers?"

Though Malo nodded slowly but firmly, Rawne just chuckled and puffed on his cigar.

"Oh, it's not half bad really. Maybe sitting around and waiting isn't very appealing, but it's something we have to do. We can't let them go unguarded, after all." He gestured to their prisoners. "We captured the commanders here, lucky us. We're gonna hold on to em nice and tight until we can turn em over to the general for a nifty reward."

Talo leaned against the wall and nodded slowly, accepting the truth of Rawne's words as he watched the dust in the sunbeams streaming in through the window. He had a sudden urge to hold his rifle when he heard distant gunshots from fighting still lingering somewhere in the city, if only because it reassured him, and reached without looking to where he had left it. But it wasn't there.

Looking to his right in surprise, Talo saw that it was indeed not there. He couldn't see it anywhere in fact.

"I wouldn't do that, Hans."

Talo looked across in the corner of the room. Apparently not napping on a pile of crates with some old Brynyan storm coats draped over him as they had all thought, Ralph sat up and stared towards the center of the room.

"You'd better give that back," he said firmly, stabbing with his finger towards the three people bound in the center.

Looking at them, Talo nearly fainted when he saw how close one was to getting hold of his rifle with his feet. Talo quickly grabbed it away, drawing a string of rough curses in Brynyan from the man who had almost seized it. He glared daggers at Talo for a moment, then whipped his head round to stare even harder at Ralph as the Justicar removed his gag.

"_Loslassen mich, Sie wertlos Schwein!_" he spat, struggling against his bonds as he shouted at Ralph.

"Funny, General. I don't believe you're in the position to be making demands…" Ralph tossed the gag over his shoulder and walked slowly over to Rawne's table.

He looked from Talo, to Malo, and then Rawne.

"Let's examine another reason for us to keep them company," whispered Ralph in a low, sinister voice.

"What's the first reason?" asked Malo, a bit interested.

"Link and Colin are incapacitated, and it doesn't make sense for an already under strength squad to wander the streets with only four members. Besides, we have to make sure none of these bastards escape. There are two other squads standing guard on the first floor, so we're perfectly safe from any...incursions." No one made to comment further. "I hope you didn't actually smoke that whole cigar, Rawne?"

Rawne sighed and took the object in question out of his mouth, a healthy amount of it left. Ralph held out his hand and Rawne dropped it in sadly. The rambunctious young soldier had been enjoying the sense of accomplishment is left him with. Nonetheless, he put his chair back down on four legs and leaned forward eagerly as he watched Ralph.

Holding the cigar's lit end out, Ralph circled the prisoners. They eyed him and the cigar nervously.

"Tell me, General Berdichsnacht…you commanded all Brynyan forces on the coast, correct?" asked Ralph as he twirled the cigar between his fingers.

"_Gehen Sie zu Hölle_, _verdammt Göttin Saugen Sie Bastard!_" Hans hissed back at him.

Shaking his head in annoyance, Ralph suddenly took the cigar and drove the lit end into Hans' right eye. He screamed and writhed in his chair. Ralph pulled it back and frowned. It had hurt, but it didn't seem to satisfy him. Shrugging, he threw it back to Rawne who caught it with a grin and resumed smoking it.

"I guess I'll ask you again. You commanded all the Brynyans along the Great Bay coastline, correct?"

"_Ja ... und ein Binnenland, wie auch._"

"See, was that hard? Now, how far inland exactly?"

"_Nur ... nur Carentan und ein paar Dörfer nördlich von hier. Sie sind alle rund um Carentan Ausbreitung in den Norden _…" he replied, shaking with rage with every word he uttered.

"Very good then. I'm done with you for now, Hans. You were very easy to break." Ralph patted the defeated general on the head lightly with a smirk on his face. "You behave now."

"Ah… and you are Tactician Rolf then?" he asked when he stopped in front of his next victim, his last one boring into him with a throbbing urge to kill in his eyes. "One of the best in Brynya, so they say. Too bad you're never going back, hmm? Ah, well, let's get on with things."

The tactician watched him through narrow eyes which radiated anger and revulsion. Ralph smiled mockingly at him and pulled off his gag. Unlike Hans however, he remained cool and collected, not saying anything to his captor.

"Well then, where to begin… Oh, yes! My superiors have told me of reports that indicate you may actually still be holding some civilians captive in those same villages your good friend the general just mentioned. So, I gotta ask you, what the hell is up with that?"

The tactician shrugged slightly but didn't change his expression at all.

"Yea, well, fine. Be that way. You'll be talking up a storm before you know it." Ralph sighed, ran a hand through his hair, and suddenly punched the Brynyan square in the face. He was knocked back enough that the back of his head smacked into a fellow officer's.

As Ralph pulled his hand back, blood oozed down the Brynyan's face. His nose was broken and twisted grotesquely to the right, and several of his teeth had been knocked out.

"Figured I'd get that over with, seeing as how I was gonna do it to one of you eventually," Ralph shrugged.

Rolf gritted his teeth and spat out a wad of saliva thick with blood at the Justicar's feet. Glancing at the stain on the floor briefly, Ralph stepped forward and brought his face close to Rolf's.

"Now, you're going to tell me- ahh!"

He stumbled back in shock as Rolf spat several teeth into his face. One narrowly missing his eye, Ralph glared at the smug Brynyan. A rough backhand wiped the grin from his face, and a he spat more blood from his mouth as it continued to ooze out of it and onto his lap and the floor. Ralph threw several more blows which left him dazed and barely conscious.

"Cocky bastard," snarled Ralph. "I'm not even going to waste my time interrogating you anymore! This is for all the men you killed!"

Rawne watched the whole affair eagerly as Ralph began to lay into the Brynyan tactician. Each blow made Talo flinch and Malo just stared at the wall with his eyes closed. Ralph had begun to taunt the prisoners in Brynyan as he beat them, and the rough dialect seemed almost murderous coming from a throat not used to forming the words.

Turning away, Talo shuddered slightly and looked out the window. He decided he didn't like the new Ralph too much. The one they had been seeing ever since they had arrived in Carentan. As if in an effort to emulate the infamous Tancred, he had grown hard and devious, favoring self preservation in desperate situations but encouraging relentless cruelty when the going was good. He was decidedly two-faced, almost cowardly in some ways and ruthless in others, though he called it common sense rather than cowardice.

Even so, watching him, Talo couldn't help but admit that Ralph was a very charming looking man. Almost perfectly made, his black eyes had a beautiful twinkle to them. They seemed very deep, but unlike Tancred's conveyed only a sense of hostility and not a mix of that and nothing at all. All in all, the rest of him was handsome too. Handsome like a snake or a well serviced firearm blowing out someone's brain. He hadn't looked dangerous during their crossing of the Great Sea when they were assigned under him, or on the beaches of Great Bay. Only when they came to Carentan did he suddenly seem so lethal.

In addition to all that, he wasn't, like the rest of them, a draftee. Most of the officers in the army actually, were just grunts from before the war, men who had signed up willingly, who had been given promotions to command the millions of draftees.

Seeing the way Ralph seemed to expertly work over the Brynyans, Talo wondered, with a brief shudder, what kind of work he might have done before the war. Such things, he figured, were best left alone. What was even stranger was the way Rawne watched him beat the Brynyans nearly to death with extreme attentiveness.

He could understand enjoying seeing Brynyans get their just desserts, but the way he wore a stupid grin the entire time and chuckled quietly every now and then was unnerving. Maybe he'd snapped? That didn't seem likely. There wasn't nearly enough stress on any of them, let alone the generally carefree Rawne. Again, another thing best left alone, he figured.

For himself though, he'd rather be almost anywhere else besides in the room he was then. The smell of blood and the sound of Ralph's hands as they struck the Brynyans created a very disturbing atmosphere. He'd even rather be injured like Colin and Link, and he found himself wishing he had ran out to save Link with Colin after all.

He sighed. Despite everything he and Malo may have said about him, Colin had proven to be braver than either of them could ever be. Faced with the impending loss of a friend and his own doom rapidly approaching, Colin had stared death in the eyes and fought it off, all without throwing up, crying, or wetting himself. Talo smiled lightly and almost chuckled. Progress.

Suddenly Talo noticed movement on the deserted streets below. Several squads of Hyrulean troopers were advancing on the building slowly and cautiously, their guns trained on the windows. Talo quickly dropped out of sight lest they fire on him by mistake, and hissed to the others.

"Hyruleans outside, moving in on the building, sir. Did we take the Brynyan flag down and raise our own when we stormed this place?"

Ralph paused and looked towards the ceiling as he thought about it for a moment, his fist drawn back and aimed to punch one of the prisoners again. Shaking his head, he connected the punch and then turned away, motioning for Rawne to follow him and for Talo and Malo to stay where they were and watch the prisoners.

Grabbing his pistol from his hip holster, he suddenly turned on Hans and shot him in the shin. He nearly fell over, chair and all, as he screeched in pain and writhed against his bonds.

"And that last one's for Bragg, you bastard," he snarled as he stormed out of the room, making sure to retrieve his rifle from the crates nearby, with a snickering Rawne following him.

* * *

Major Biggs stopped suddenly when he saw it. The squads around him stopped too, even if they were exposed in the open. They all stared.

Almost daintily, a Brynyan swastika-adorned flag splattered with white paint was poking through the front door of the Brynyan HQ, waving at them. A gesture of surrender. The Major blinked once, twice, in confusion as a dozen or so Hyruleans came out and walked down the steps to meet them after a minute or so of flag waving. The lead one, a man he faintly recognized as Justicar Ralph from his own regiment, still held the flag over his shoulder and twirled it around in his hands. He was obviously very pleased with himself.

"Good morning gentlemen! Great day for a victory, eh?" Ralph said cheerily, waving at the dumbstruck Hyruleans before him.

Biggs cleared his throat. Ralph, suddenly noticing him, dropped the flag and gave a quick and firm salute. The men around him followed his example without hesitation, though their salutes were noticeably sloppier.

"Justicar Ralph…" said Biggs slowly, exhaling loudly as he did. "What have you done this time? Tell me it's not something stupid…"

"Oh, but I'm one step ahead of you there, sir!" he laughed. "You see, I've got something so perfect for you that it will make you forget my insolence now, and all the silly things I've done in the past! Maybe you'll even see fit to give me a promotion…"

The major chuckled at his forwardness.

"Sorry Corporal Ralph. No promotions for you today. The opposite, I'm afraid." He smiled good naturedly at Ralph's stunned face.

"W-What? Major Biggs?" he asked as he fell to his knees, stunned.

"I would like to see what you've got for me, in any case. You!" He pointed at Rawne. "Show me."

"Oh, and meet your new Justicar, Corporal Ralph." he said as he followed Rawne inside.

Biggs walked past him with all of his men except for one. Ralph watched them go, his eyes filling with contempt. He looked up as a shadow fell over him.

"On your feet, Ralph."

Glowing brightly, his gold carapace armor and fatigues reflected the sunlight almost painfully. The sword strapped at his waist stank of putrid blood and rotting flesh, even after countless washing. Its serrated chain-like blade glistened with malice. The pyre pistol at his side spoke of his once great status, and the BAR strapped to his back showed the ruthless close tactics he preferred in battle even when using a firearm.

Small bits of rubble crunched under his hefty and thick boots. They were encrusted with traces blood impossible to wash off, as were his gauntlets. His deep blue eyes pierced into Ralph's soul and confused him with their impossible show of emotions. There was no mistaking it.

"Tancred… Sergeant Tancred, sir!" Ralph yelled happily as he all but jumped to his feet.

"No, boy." Tancred said with a sigh. "Justicar now."

"Huh?"

"It's complicated. They seem to think I'm not mentally sound for regimental command."

"But they let you train us and lead us during the attack on Great Bay! And you did it well! Better than any of them could!" Ralph was almost trembling with anger, and he was unconsciously grinding the flag into the pavement with his feet.

"It doesn't matter. They're afraid… Afraid of me and my reputation. They say this is to ensure there isn't another incident like before. To ensure I don't damn the entire war effort somehow. They told me that giving me regimental command for as long as they did was merely a mistake, that they were so desperate for field officers they even chose me. But the truth is, they knew what they were doing when they assigned me as commander of the 96th. I can tell since they didn't even bother to promote me to colonel. They believed I would die on the beaches, that the battle would dull my grasp on reality and I'd go mad and get myself killed."

He paused and looked up, staring at the flag of Hyrule as it was slowly raised above it on the empty flag pole. A few tanks and halftracks laden with infantry trundled past on the road, towards the outskirts of Carentan where the last Brynyans were in full retreat. Tancred watched them go, not even paying attention as the troops in the back of the halftracks saluted him, thinking him a high ranking officer when they beheld his armor.

"But it seems, that I've cheated death once again. I'm still here, and now they're trying to get me out of the way. So be it. They can demote me and try and get me killed as much as they like. I'll still have a unit all my own."

"Commander!" Ralph began excitedly, making a very formal salute. "It will be just like before, you'll see! Before everything went wrong, and before this war."

Tancred nodded slowly, the faintest traces of a smile appearing on the edges of his lips. Then he became alert again, and looked around. He gazed at Ralph, irritated.

"Corporal, where the hell is the rest of the squad you sorry bastard! Find them! I need to see what kind of shit I have to work with!"

Ralph took a step back, chuckling weakly and smiling. Tancred was back.

* * *

It had all begun a week ago, which they now knew was the approximate date of the Hyrulean invasion. All of them had breathed a sigh of relief and silently cheered. Finally, they would be saved.

Their optimism quickly died however, when they realized where they were. Locked in a prison in the heart of Sumeria, they were almost two thousand miles south of the Hyruleans. The Brynyans knew this all too well, and they ensured hope was beat out of them by broadcasting the news of the war in Termina throughout the prison. Some suspected it was heavily twisted to be in favor of the Brynyans, but it all came at them so fast and forcefully they had little time to question it.

Many returned to how they had been before, despising but accepting their new labor. They had no choice in the matter, after all. A precious few continued to cling to the optimism, and to their newfound hope. Through the beatings, the sickness, and the near starvation the Brynyans put them through, they kept their dreams of salvation alive. Some, in a display of absolute defiance to the Brynyans, even returned to their worship of the Three. They sent their prayers to the Hyruleans, begging the gods that there would be saviors would end their living nightmares.

It had all begun a week ago. A revolution of sorts amongst the prisoners. A precious few bold ones began to dream of rebellion against their oppressors.

In the end though, there wasn't anything they could do. The new labor forced upon them by the Brynyans left them weary to the bone every day. Even if they had the means, a revolt would be impossible in their states.

This new chapter of their nightmare had begun with a massive black cloud rising over the compound. Whispers ran amongst the prisoners, carrying hopes of the place burning to the ground. That dream was destroyed when a part of the large outer wall had peeled away with a loud moan, ancient gears within grinding against years of rust and neglect. Beyond the hidden gateway was a massive facility.

Scores of warehouses and factories, topped with immense smoke stacks that belched thick black smoke into the sky, were lined up along the walls. In the center was a massive field, the ground a dusty grey, and at the other end was another gate, far more visible than the first. The guards came for them, cell by cell, grinning evilly as they led them through the gate and into the factories and warehouses.

Inside them it was hot. Too hot, almost. Compared to the brisk air outside and the frigid nights they had all become accustomed to, it felt to them like they had truly entered the forges of Hell itself. The factories had not been run since the first Great War, decades before. As they came to life, fire belched in great violent bursts from the machines and smokestacks. Some equipment, overcome by rust, coughed and died on the spot. Sometimes it exploded as vital systems were too damaged for it to operate correctly, and prisoners in range were incinerated along with it.

After they had been reactivated and brought around to working order, massive assembly lines ran through the factories, carrying different pieces of some great machine. The prisoners monotonously operated them, contained between two long wire fence lines that let them reach their work and funneled them to and from the factories, piecing things together and ensuring nothing went wrong. The work was incredibly mundane, and some looked ready to snap and lose their minds after just one seventeen hour shift.

Several days had passed before they learned what it was they were making. Rolling onto the field in the center of the manufacturing plant one day, were the first complete products of their labors. Lines of Saber main battle tanks, and thousands of shells and millions of bullets. There had been a grim silence as the shock rippled through them all, bit by bit. They were making the very weapons that Brynyan soldiers would be using to kill Hyruleans.

She realized, as she sent another Saber cannon muzzle down the line, that she should be crying. But there were no tears left for her to cry. Her hands had become raw and bloody from constantly handling the rough and jagged metal she was forced to work with. The heat from the forges drenched her with sweat and it fell from her dreary face steadily.

Drip, drip, drip.

She blinked furiously and rubbed at her eye with the back of a greasy hand as a bead of sweat slid into it. Its saltiness stung and the grime from her hand only made it worse. She looked around and over herself awkwardly. Everything was encrusted with blood, grease, and sweat. Sighing, she tried to wipe away some of the grime from her hand and wiped her face with it.

Sweat still fell to the floor from her stiff and dirty hair. It clung to her head like clothes that were too tight, and it was matted down with all manner of filth. She tried not to cry, then remembered she couldn't anyway, when she reflected on how bad things had become in just a little more than five months in this hellhole.

A blast of heat from behind her startled her, and she looked behind her at the raging flames of one of the forges. The molten metal within churned and bubbled as it was worked and processed by two very distant looking young men. There was a rattle from the walkway directly above her.

She looked up through the steel grille pathway that sat over the fences in front and behind her. A Brynyan guard stared down at her, his face hidden by his helmet and visor. He yelled something at her in Brynyan. When she stood there, staring at him in confusion, he thrust his cattle prod through the floor or the walk and into her shoulder. With a light scream she fell to her knees and shook as the electricity ran through her body.

Other guards patrolling along the walkways over the prisoners as they worked all turned in the direction of the fuss and laughed. They laughed even harder as they watched the struggle of the lone prisoner as she was repeatedly shocked again and again as she tried to stand. The rest of the prisoners in the factory turned away and continued with their work, not wanting to be singled out for anything.

Ike and Sothe, working the forge behind Malon, looked on with dismay, Sothe from the corner of his eye and Ike with a full on stare. Ike clenched his fist and felt his entire arm shaking with rage as he watched helplessly. Sothe put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. His handsome, lean face was well hidden by fatigue and layers of sweat and grime, but Ike could still see the look in his eyes.

Nodding slowly, he turned back to the forge and pulled out two short metal spikes from the bin of icy water next to the forge to cool finished metal pieces. He had risked life and limb to create them in secret during his shifts with Sothe. Now complete, he handed one to Sothe and they tucked them away under the folds of their greasy clothes.

The guard had grown bored with Malon and left, but she was still on the dirty floor. Whimpering in pain, she struggled to her feet and back to the line, where work she could barely understand awaited her for ten more hellish hours. Drops of liquid were splashing onto the dirty floor beneath her, but it wasn't sweat. Somehow, she still had tears left.

Ike watched her from the corner of his eye. He felt the cold metal hidden in his clothes and narrowed his eyes. Staring on the belly of the forge, he watched the molten metal until he could see two emerald orbs staring back at him. He glanced at Malon one more time before returning to work.

"Just hold on… Just a little more… I won't let you down. Not this time. Not you or anyone else..."

* * *

xakattak's A/N: Well, first of all, most of the work for this chapter can once again be accredited to LinkIsaacANDLloyd. Next item of business is that of geographical locations in our story. As a few reviews have stated, many of you seem confused as to the geographical implications of the events in this story. For those of you who would like to know exactly where everything is located and just how long of a journey Link and Co. have ahead of them, we have maps available to any who would like them. Just give us an email address and we will send any map of your preference, for we have a few.

All right well thanks for reading. We appreciate your feedback and interest in our story. We love writing it, too. :D Well, since I have nothing else to say, we would love for you to read and review. So do it. Thanks.


	11. Uprising

**Chapter 11: Uprising**

LinkIsaacANDLloyd's author note: Yea, well, another month, another chapter. Pretty pathetic how long it takes us, but…meh. We're both gonna try really hard to get a ton of chapters out during June, July, August…the summer, essentially. Now, I regret to inform you all, this is the last 'Prison scene', aka 'Malon chapter' for a while. It's just become painfully difficult to write the characters in the same mundane position constantly. I'm sure you'll be able to see from this one how painful it was for me to squeeze it out of my brain. Yea, well, it still sets up a pivotal point, which will be looked at later on. So, yea, if you like these chapters…too bad, this ZELDA fic, will finally be centered on LINK after this. Muahahaha. Let us know what you think!

-

Sitting on her knees she stared into the small tub of water in front of her. Her reflection stared back at her. She felt her hands unconsciously clench when she beheld herself. Touching her face tentatively - as if to make sure the one she saw in the water was really her own - that filthy and disgusting face, she cringed.

Tiny ripples spread through the water as she took a step closer to it and her movement disturbed the tub. Nervously, she watched the inky blackness as it slowly settled down. She couldn't remember the last time it had been changed.

Dirt, chunks of various bile, grease. Hair. It bobbed along the surface like a vast fleet at sea. She frowned. A vast fleet stranded on a dead and motionless sea, with no wind to fill its sails and waves to push it onward, was more like it.

So much like myself, she thought. Stranded in Hell, nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

She began to roll up her sleeves and looked at her arms; so thin and bony and trembling. Her skirt and blouse, once things so trivial, were suddenly precious, though they barely existed anymore. Held together by crude stitching and dirty brown cloth, the garments seemed as disgusting as the horrible water before her.

Shuddering, she leaned over the tub and stared into it for what felt like a very long time. Nearly losing herself in its texture, she suddenly snapped back when she heard footsteps nearby. Looking up, she quickly looked back down again.

Just a guard walking past the cell. A guard looking all too eagerly for someone to make eye contact with him, so he could single them out for one thing or another and entertain himself.

"Not again," she muttered. "Not again…"

Looking back towards the tub before her, it took her a moment to remember what she was doing. Soon, it clicked and she was leaning over the water once more. With her sleeves rolled up, she slowly lowered her hands towards the water. She flinched at how cold it was, and how it seemed to cling thickly to her skin. She brought a hand to her face and watched with disgusted fascination as it dripped slowly, almost oozing, from her fingers.

"It's not like it can get any worse," she sighed, running her thumb and forefinger down a length of oily, sickly, hair.

Cupping her hands, she leaned towards the water and prepared to splash it over her head and hair. A sudden crunch of gravel made her turn around. She had been expecting someone to approach her at some point, but never in all the world did she think it would be _him._

"What are you doing there, girlie?"

She cringed very slightly at his nickname for her.

"Thinking of takin' a little dunk?" he asked, pointing to the tub behind her with a smirk.

He watched her through the narrow gaps in his thick, greasy black bangs, scratching an itch on his viciously hooked nose and narrow chin. The barren rags of his clothes hung across his frame loosely and between the rips and tears Malon could see his body, sunken and haggard. Even so, his muscles, built by his hard labor in the camp, bulged through his tight skin and looked almost grotesque.

"Randulf," she said, averting her gaze, for something about him always unsettled her.

She had no wish to actually speak to him, and preferred the awe inspiring company of a tree instead. But, since there were no trees, or even decently sized rocks, in their cell, she looked back at him with a blank expression.

"Yea, that's my name alright. So girlie," he began again, "what are ya doin over here? By that swamp I might add."

Trying to ignore the stare of his midnight black eyes, she looked past him as she talked.

"I was just…standing around, is all."

"So standing around includes preparing to bathe yourself in toxins?"

Her eyes widened a little but she raised a skeptical eyebrow. His smirk grew a little larger.

"W-what do you mean?" she asked, quickly changing her expression.

"That water. It's poison," he replied simply.

Malon looked over her shoulder at the oily water, seeing a few more vivid pieces of bile floating in it. She hid her gag and looked back at Randulf.

"You're joking right?" she asked, trying not to play into his hand.

He laughed. Almost too loud, for several guards nearby looked up at a possible reason to hit something defenseless and weak. Unable to pinpoint the source, they returned to attention at their posts, each a little downcast.

"Think about it, girlie. The Brynyans change that, oh, once a month or two…or three. And we're in open air cells. When it rains, or it snows, or even when it decides to drop some fucking hail on us, we get to sit right under it and enjoy it. Now, you'll notice all that beautiful smog coming from the factories and shit on the other side of the camp. Where do you think that goes when it mixes with the clouds, and it rains…?"

He pointed slowly at the tub behind her.

"In that so called water," he sniggered. "I think it'd be healthier just to swallow your pride and go around dirty and stinky like the rest of us. But that's just greasy old me. I've always been a dirty bastard, after all…"

"Is that so…" she said, more to herself than Randulf as she looked at what she had nearly washed her face in.

Truthfully, she had known from the very beginning just how dirty and unsafe the water was for any use whatsoever. But whether it was a sudden violent urge to be clean, or some other, less pleasant motivation, she couldn't say. Besides, Svnier used it multiple times and he seemed perfectly healthy.

"Svnier isn't exactly the best example when you're trying to gauge the health effects a substance might have on you based on what it does to him," Randulf snickered. "He's not really, oh, normal, you might say. I bet that bastard could catch a bullet in his teeth…or at the very least deflect one with his face and stay standing. Mark my words girlie, that one's a crazy bastard…"

"And what about you? I'm sure you didn't come over here just to talk about poison and how much hair Svnier has."

Randulf's face darkened and he took a sudden step closer to her, so that they were almost touching and she could feel his breath on her neck. She was too surprised to move back, and if she had she would have tripped over the tub.

"I'm here to give you some advice I just thought you might want," he began, whispering into her ear slowly, "watch your back. These Brynyans… They're sick fuckers. They'd do anything for… Hell, anybody would do anything for _that_! _Anything _damn you! And who can say what happens to someone when they're incapacitated…and isolated."

He backed off and chuckled a bit as he wiped a strand of greasy hair out of his face. Malon stared at him with revulsion and he chuckled some more.

"Are you insane?! I've been here a few months now, so I think I know how messed up the Brynyans are! So what's that supposed to mean then!?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

"Take care there, girlie. Don't use the water," he said with a smile of cracked and rotted teeth, ignoring her question.

Malon looked away and shuddered. When she looked back, Randulf had seemingly vanished, but she saw him crouched down in a far corner of the cell, talking with the giant Svnier. She couldn't seem to shake the feeling he was glaring at her through his greasy bangs.

What in Din's name is wrong with that man? she wondered. And why would he warn her about the Brynyans? She already knew firsthand what they could do. But what did he mean by '_that_? She couldn't shrug off the dreadful feeling it gave her. She tensed up when she heard footsteps behind her.

"Take it from me Malon; Randulf is about as sane as a mass murderer."

She turned around in surprise and nearly fainted in relief when she saw Sothe.

"I think it would be in your best interest not to pay attention to anything he says to you in private. He's been in the custody of the Brynyans longer than any of us…I'm afraid his mind isn't completely there anymore," he sighed.

"So, he's crazy?" she asked.

"Crazy?" Sothe fixed her with an odd look and then chuckled. "No, I don't think crazy is the right word for it. Randulf is… Well, he is mad. Mad and a little crazy I guess. But just outright crazy? I highly doubt it."

Malon looked at Sothe for a moment, giving him a look that made him frown.

"Ah, well, I really don't know what his story is. He won't open up to any of us. Far as I can tell, he has some deep hatred for the Brynyans and will probably spend the rest of his life searching for a way to get back at them for something. One thing's for sure though, he definitely has a far different reason for being here than the rest of us."

"Yeah, we're all just civilians caught up in things we can't control," Malon said sadly. There was a long, awkward silence afterward.

"Well come on then," Sothe said, breaking the silence and putting a hand on her shoulder and steering her towards the center of the cell. "Ike has something to show everyone tonight, when most of the guards are gone. He says this is the perfect time for it, now that we've been put on a rest cycle for a day or so. Hah! Damn Brynyans just don't want us collapsing dead from exhaustion, is all… They need bodies, after all…" he trailed off, muttering angrily.

He paused and turned around suddenly. He raised an eyebrow and gave Malon a look.

"Were you gonna use that stuff?" he asked, pointing at the stagnant water in the small tub.

She shook her head furiously.

"Good idea," Sothe laughed. "Goddesses only know the Brynyans haven't changed that so called 'wash water' in ages…

-

Later that night, as most of the guards were nodding off at their posts or too drunk to be aware of the world anymore, a strange sound was drifting out of many of the cells. Cycled off work duties for a few days so they wouldn't actually die of exhaustion and deprive their captors of working bodies, the prisoners in cell-block B had congregated together in their individual, isolated hells.

Suppressed laughter and _happy_ voices hung quietly upon the night air. The guards meant to keep order in the cell-block were lying unconscious in a drunken stupor after several hours of celebrating some obscure thing, or just drinking because they had nothing better to do.

It was an almost magical night for the prisoners of cell-block B. It was after all, the first time since arriving in the camp that the Brynyans didn't seem to care what they did within the confines of their cells. While there certainly wasn't a jubilant air about the cell-block, it was decidedly more cheerful than it had been before. Even though they all knew everything would be back to normal in a day or two, they were still relieved; to be able to almost freely reminisce and talk to each other.

None of them were aware of the cold eyes which watched them all from the top of the prison citadel.

In one particular cell, there was no laughter, no joy. Just a grim, uneasy air as its inhabitants huddled together around a fire and spoke in hushed voices. They labored at the same time to be as quiet as possible, yet still be audible to the others. Their bodies shook with anxiety and they constantly glanced over their shoulders at every little sound outside their circle.

"…and this is how it'll be done."

The others watched with baited breath as Ike reached into the folds of fabric around his waist and pulled something long from its sheath of wretched fabric. It glinted brilliantly in the firelight, the light almost seeming to drip from its perfect surface, and he quickly lowered it to the ground and hunched over it so it wouldn't reflect the light.

It was a long piece of metal, fashioned into the likeness of a dagger blade without a handle. The tip was so fine it was almost impossible to see in the semi-darkness. Wordlessly, he held out his hand and Sothe placed a piece of wood in his open palm. He fit it and the metal spike together, spit in the dirt and dulled the sheen of the blade with the wet earth, and held it up for them to see.

Somehow, in the absolute confinement of the prison, a dagger had been fashioned from scratch.

"Well I'll be, boy," said Svnier as he took the knife and held it in his hands. "I knew Sothe there was handy with wood carving, but how could you make such a perfect blade? And in such little time, too!"

He reached over the fire and patted Ike on the head gently as he chuckled lightly.

"There's more to you than meets the eye boy, more indeed! But I won't pry." He handed the knife back to Ike and sat back down quietly.

"The details of how I made this or even how I knew how to make it to begin with, are…complicated," Ike began slowly. "You're free to imagine for yourself how, but that's not important right now. Sothe?"

Picking up his daughter from his lap and handing her off to Malon, Sothe dug around in his clothes like Ike and produced another, almost identical, dagger. Svnier nearly fainted out of surprise but managed a hearty but quiet chuckle instead. Randulf merely smiled darkly and nodded knowingly. Malon and Beth both shook their heads and sighed as they saw the fire in the eyes of Ike and Sothe. Even Svnier had a new gleam in his own.

"So we have weapons," stated Randulf. "Now what do you intend to do with them?"

Ike fixed him with a stare, knowing he already knew what their intentions were. He humored him anyway for the others' sake.

"Well, what do you do with weapons? You fight. You kill. You die." He ignored the almost inaudible gasp from Malon. "I know how stupid it is to think we could escape. Maybe me and Sothe, and Svnier and Randulf too I guess, might be able to get out alive, but whoever can't will be left behind or die in the attempt. If we leave anyone behind, they will suffer while we run free. I couldn't live with that. None of us could."

"So…we're not going to break out? Then what the fuck was the point of making them, Ike?" Randulf asked heatedly. "We're stuck rotting in this hell-hole and so you make some weapons. Oh, yea, that's great and all, but you don't even intend to use them to escape. If you're too much of a pussy to use 'em then here, I'll take em and kill every Brynyan in this fucking prison!"

He reached out for the knife in Sothe's hands but never got close. Ike stood up and laid him out with a clean punch to the face, and he fell on his back with a grunt. Randulf held his face with one hand and his free hand at his side was balled into a fist and shaking with almost uncontrolled rage.

"Randulf," Ike began, his voice firm but hushed as he stared at the fallen man with hard eyes, "I know you have more reason than any of us to hate the Brynyans, and this place, but I need you to just get a grip on yourself! Taking a knife that by all rights we shouldn't even be able to have gotten and attacking the guards with it like a maniac while trying to escape is only going to get you killed. And your death will be meaningless!"

Randulf brushed spit and blood away from his mouth with the back of his arm as he sat up with a groan. He spat a thick wad of blood and spittle into the dirt and looked past the fire and into straight into Ike's eyes.

"Fine then… You've got weapons, so how's it going to be done? How're you going to escape, or whatever the hell you're trying to accomplish here?"

Ike ignored him and looked around the fire at the faces of everyone in turn. He paused for a second longer when he looked towards Malon. He flinched when she met his gaze and he looked away, staring into the flames.

_Those damn eyes…_

"Don't you want revenge?" whispered Sothe quickly, nudging Ike out of his reverie with his elbow.

"Revenge?" growled Svnier. "Of what kind?"

"The bloody kind, I'd assume," Randulf said coolly, still massaging parts of his aching face, though his rotten teeth were exposed in a wicked and bloody smile.

"Yes… there will be blood. There will be death. I don't even expect any of us who take part in this to survive the ordeal." He fingered the blade of his dagger tentatively as he looked around the fire at the others. "Now… who will join me, knowing full well this is most definitely suicide."

Svnier chuckled, Randulf smirked, and Sothe nodded solemnly.

"Whatever it is, I will be there with ya Ike…killin' these bastards anyway I can," growled Svnier.

"You know damn well I'm getting one of those knives, you know. You can have it back once I'm dead," Randulf spat.

"I was with you from the beginning Ike… There's no way I wouldn't be there for the end!" Sothe balled his fists together and lowered his voice to a growl. "Nothing will stop me from putting my beloved at peace by killing them all…"

Ike actually smiled then, even laughed a little.

"I suppose I should have made four knives then? No matter… This is what we'll do…"

Malon and Beth, completely forgotten by the others, looked on helplessly as Ike shared his seemingly insane plan for final vengeance against the Brynyans.

"What is Daddy and the others talking 'bout, Malon?" Mist asked shyly, looking up at Malon's face.

Malon wiped away a tear and sighed sadly.

"They're going to try and be heroes, Mist. Just like all the stories you were told at bedtime… heroes."

"I wish I knew, Mist. I wish I knew… All I know is they're planning something. It's all we can do to pray to the Goddesses they don't get hurt in the process…"

-

There was a deep rumbling, and suddenly all the lights went out and the bulbs burst.

"Hmm…now that _is_ interesting," whispered a deep and scratchy voice in the dark.

The darkness was briefly illuminated by a flare of light; a lit match. Flickering weakly, the match was snuffed out and the flare replaced by a dull red glow. Thick smoke drifted through the air and was barely visible against the backdrop of the lit cigarette butt.

"My lord?" someone asked tentatively.

There was a loud bang as someone slammed their fist on something. Several people in the room jumped back and their feet scraping against the floor was painfully loud in the darkness.

"Would you _idiots_ turn on the fucking auxiliary lights?" There was a terse silence, after which several pairs of feet scrambled around in the dark noisily. "Before I shoot you all in the fucking head, you dumbasses."

Moments later, the room was bathed in bright light. Five people quickly made their way back to their seats around a large table which dominated the room. The room shook as explosions shook the ground overhead.

"As I was saying," began Dragmire slowly, "this is quite interesting. According to this report, Hans' so called 'elite legions' were overrun in just under a week? They manage a week, and then they lost a whole goddamned city?"

The other five sitting around the table glanced at each other nervously. Neither of them wanted to actually say anything, because none of them were sure if he was actually mad or not. In the end, one, a man in his early fifties with significant balding but a thick grey beard on his chin and a colonel's pins on his black uniform, stood up and addressed him.

"With all due respect sir, General Berdichsnacht was an arrogant fool with only levied men from backwater regions at his command. He overestimated his forces and underestimated the enemy. I do not believe this is any cause for concern, as the Hyruleans' hold on the city is very strenuous because they have yet to advance on the outlying villages. Their operations fortifying the city are being grossly impeded by our artillery in the villages, and only the highest and longest range bombers they have can slip past our interceptors from the northern airfields." He straitened his uniform and toyed with one of his pins as he looked towards Dragmire expectantly.

"What are you waiting for? A damn commendation? Sit down you dumb old bastard. I know all of that, and I am damn well aware that the Hyruleans' have long range bombers that can fly higher than our available fighters and flak guns. Not to mention that goddamn Leviathan they keep in Great Bay, even though they rarely fire it. Superstitious bastards. But of course I know about the bombers, because I can hear them blowing up my forces right fucking above me! My fortress city is being blown to pieces! What I really want to know from you idiots is where the fuck are the new interceptors or even long range anti-air flak artillery I was promised, what, two months ago? What the hell is going on here? I need them and I need them now!"

As he angrily slammed his fists against the table, his five advisors cringed and shrunk away from his rage. Even the colonel, who had been so bold before, was now quivering in his seat before Dragmire's anger.

"Sir… The Seleucians have begun a renewed counter offensive against Brynyan forces all along their borders. Millions of men are likely to die in the battles there, on both sides. But the worst part is that the Seleucians managed to gain enough ground that they could get their artillery in range of Howling Pass, which connects our supply lines from Mother Brynya and Sumeria to Termina. They caused a massive avalanche and the pass will be inaccessible for a long time… and I guess you haven't gotten your supplies before then, sir, because they were in greater need of them in the war against the Seleucians. And I guess—"

_Bang! _Dragmire held his smoking pistol in his hand and smiled at the dead man, watching blood ooze from his forehead onto the table.

"Bastard. Should have been more respectful to his superiors. And yes, you stupid corpse, I guess I haven't gotten the shipments by sea because, this just in, the Hyrulean Navy is in control of Great Bay and much of the surrounding ocean, not to mention they control the only port in this entire damn country, and its main coastal city! Well, this is just fucking perfect. Now I need a new idiot to replace him, and my forces are being blown to Hell! Mein Fuehrer is NOT going to be pleased with our progress here. We need to crush those damn Hyruleans and we need to do it now! Kaiser forbid, the war with Seleucia go sour and they meet up with Hyrulean forces streaming across Termina… Arrrrgggh!! This is BULLSHIT!!"

His aides dived for cover as he leapt from his seat, picked it up, and smashed it over the table, shattering both pieces of furniture. Chunks of table and chair scattered around the room, he stood with his fists clenched and his chest heaving as he looked around the room.

"No doubt…those Hyruleans will try and save all the Terminian civilians we have imprisoned in the camps in Eastern Termina… They'll likely send a good number of their forces that way to save them, and then take the ancient fortress city of Ikana and hold them all there… Hmm… What the fuck do I do with this mess? Goddammit Hans, you just had to be so eager to imprison worthless peasants. Just fucking shoot them, I say! We have too many forces in those camps… And they're not even producing anything, unlike those camps in Sumeria! They're just sitting there taking up space! Damn it all!"

"Sir, uh… General Dragmire sir?" one of the four remaining aides asked as he stood up slowly from the floor.

Dragmire eyed them viciously for a moment then nodded slowly at him. He cleared his throat and leaned against the wall to help his shaking.

"Sir, I believe it would be in the best interest of our forces if you withdrew all the legions stationed in Eastern Termina. Let them have the region, we need those forces to hold this city, sir."

Dragmire actually paused to consider it, staring at the floor and stroking his scarlet beard thoughtfully. He gazed around the room, and his eyes came to rest on a tactical board of Termina hanging from the wall, with magnetic pieces to mark troop deployments and such. He walked over to it, looked at it for a few short moments, then turned back to his cowering aides. He took a deep breath and sighed.

"This is all too damn stressful… Ah, well, you are right, colonel. We have nearly 400,000 troops in those camps doing absolutely nothing, and only 300,000 here in Aborwatch and 600,000 in Ville d'horloge itself. The Hyruleans will advance on us with almost all of their forces… almost a million men, if intelligence is to be trusted. Alright. Send the order to call all those men back here, into Aborwatch. I'll redeploy them myself when they get here. In their place, so the Hyruleans have a fun time losing men and resources freeing those worthless peasants, send the Thantos Legions to 'guard' the camps and hinder Hyrulean advances through the so-called, 'Sea of Grass' in central Termina."

"T-The Thantos Legions sir? Are you s-sure?" asked a dumbstruck aide.

"Don't make me shoot you, you fucking idiot. You heard what I said, dammit! Now do it! Those crazy bastards will keep the Hyruleans more than occupied, considering most of their forces are semi-retarded inbreeds drafted from their farms all across that damn country. Now, go you idiots! You have your orders! Go!"

As his aides scrambled from the room as more explosions rumbled over head, Ganondorf Dragmire returned his attention to the tactical board. He moved some pieces around and laughed to himself. More explosions shook the room.

"Now, to swat those pesky bombers out of the sky…"

-

xakattak's A/N: As my partner said, it's pretty lame that it takes us almost a month to update each time, but now that summer's here you can hopefully expect more frequent updates. Well, he has said pretty much everything that needed to be said, so all I can say is read and review! Next chapter should be posted soon.


	12. Into the Fray

**Chapter 12: Into the Fray**

LinkIsaacandLloyd's Author Note: Hope you like it, and if you don't, review anyway! Flames are always funny to read, but actual reviews are even better. Since the next chapter is basically just another action packed battle, it should be a long one, and it should be out sooner than you'd expect. Although, as I've said before, the big plot twists are coming… Sooner than chapter 20 actually, I lied! Oh, and to clear up something from before, the 'inbred idiot' comment from a previous chapter was directed by Dragmire at Hyrulean soldiers, not the 'Thantos Legions'. Maybe they seem a tad more fearsome now?

_Link stepped off the bus slowly, taking a deep breath as he felt the reassuring crunch of gravel underneath his boots. He dropped his bag and looked around slowly, closing his eyes and leaning his head back slightly as a sudden breeze caressed his face. As the bus began to pull away with a roar of its engine, he picked his bag up again and took a step forward._

_The bus speeding down the old dirt road into the distance, Link looked around and felt his heart hammer against his chest. Everything was just as it had been the day he left. The fields were still filled with a healthy crop of wheat and corn, the livestock were still roaming the pastures passively, and all the buildings still stood as strongly as they ever had. Even the small farmhouse was untouched as he remembered it. _

_Sputtering as he tried to control his breathing, Link broke into a run towards the house. Tears were threatening to fall from his eyes as memories of the beloved home and his family came flooding back to him. He began half-laughing-half-sobbing as he neared the porch steps, throwing down his bag of belongings and making a headlong dash towards them. _

_He suddenly heard a loud whinny to his right and turned his head just in time to see a large horse galloping very fast right towards him. Digging his feet in, he slowed down and gained enough traction on the ground to jump back and safely out of the way. His movements were so sudden however, he couldn't keep his balance and ended up on his bottom as the horse sped past. _

_Brushing himself off, he watched it for a short while as it slowly moved into the distance and was lost to sight. He scratched his head and shrugged to himself. It had been a brown mare, with rings of white right above its hooves and a white tail and mane. There had been a grace and majesty to the animal that he couldn't even begin to explain. What bothered him though, was that he didn't know what horse that was; he had never seen it before, and he had always known almost every animal on the farm by sight._

_And there wasn't another farm for many, many miles._

_Pushing the very random and strange occurrence from his mind, he leapt to his feet, running up the porch steps and almost jumping towards the front door. He reached for the handle but stopped when he heard a noise to his left. Turning his head slowly, he noticed for the first time Ingo sitting in an old chair staring into the distance with a blank expression. There was a bottle of hard liquor in his hand._

_Link opened his mouth to speak to him, then recoiled in horror when he remembered that Ingo being there was incredibly wrong. Ingo had died years ago, when he was just a little kid, and yet, here he was. As full of life as he had ever been, with his body full of alcohol and his mind a complete blank. Link passed the old man off as a figment of his imagination, then he heard him mumble something. _

"Servo lemma, Link! Servo lemma, Vir!_"_

_Ingo's head slowly turned towards Link as he finished mumbling. His bloodshot eyes stared hard at Link. So hard, Link flinched and looked away under the almost painful stare. When he looked back, Ingo wasn't there anymore. As if he had never even been there in the first place, neither was the chair he had been sitting in. Link blinked in confusion, shivered a bit, and decided it was best to get inside before he began to lose his mind._

_Stepping through the doorway, he found the inside of the house to be unnaturally dark and cold. He figured that wasn't unusual. It was almost always very hot in the summer, and his family had always had means of combating the heat, from dimming most of the lights to various techniques of altering airflow through the house. But this seemed done almost too well._

_He pushed the thought away and began walking down the entrance hall. The further in he went, the colder it seemed to get. Soon he was visibly shivering. Looking from side to side at the photos on the wall as he passed, he noticed most of them were gone. Every now and then, there were two pictures in perfect alignment on both sides. They were frameless, and seemed to hang there by the will of some invisible hand. Weirdest of all, they seemed to portray nothing more than a swirling dark portal which seemed to move within the picture itself. He shuddered and pressed on, wondering what kind of tastes his family must have developed while he was away._

_Upon entering the kitchen, he noticed things seemed a little warmer and brighter than they had before. Even so, the surroundings still unnerved him, as if they were alien and he had never seen any of it before. The table and the chairs, of which there were mysteriously only four, seemed to be rotting and were covered thickly in dust. Everything from the walls, the counters and all the other furniture had taken on a dull grey coloration. _

_A cool breeze assaulted the side of his face and he turned to his right to face the source, seeing one of the two kitchen windows open. He walked slowly towards it, looking outside it with a perplexed look on his face. The crops had mysteriously vanished from the fields, and they were nothing more than vast expanses of dusty plain. Shutting the window and drawing the curtains over it quickly, Link leaned against the wall and breathed furiously, his heart rate accelerating for completely different reasons this time. _

_Something was wrong here, of that he was now certain. He somewhat regained his composure and pressed on, walking through the kitchen and towards the living room. As he approached, he could hear the garbled noise emanating from the radio. The waves of static seemed to him like a steady pulse, like the beating of a heart. He swore he could hear voices in the static, nearly inaudible whispers reaching out to speak to him. But he could make none of them out and, taking a deep breath, stepped into the living room slowly._

_The couch and his father's old recliner were in state of decay like that of the kitchen. Paint was peeling off the walls and the carpet was soiled and torn in numerous places. His breath caught in his throat when he noticed his family sitting around the room, staring blankly towards the radio. The voices in the static sounded a little clearer now. His mother, father, sister, and brother completely ignored him as they sat in the dead living room._

_He shivered as he felt just how cold it was in the room. His mother, Linda, suddenly sighed sadly, and what Link was next witness to nearly brought him to his knees in anguish. _

"_So…there is no news?" his mother asked quietly._

_Link's father, Bernard Aires, frowned as he gestured towards the radio. Linda nodded sadly and pointed at the small pile of newspapers on the coffee table. His younger brother snorted and actually laughed a little._

"_Mom, these newspapers are worthless. We haven't gotten a new one for at least two weeks and the last few we did get had nothing but pointless stories about nothing printed on them. There wasn't even a sports section in any of 'em and the front page on one was completely blank except for some mindless gibberish." He searched through the stack and pulled one out, lifting it up and showing it to everyone else. "See? It says, '_Sie nun jetzt servieren die Kaiser._' What the heck is that supposed to mean anyway?"_

"_Alright John, we get it," Linda said. "We're still in the dark then… How long has it been?" _

"_Oh, you mean since we were just kind of cut off from the world? I'd say a month or so," replied Bernard. _

_Links little sister Aryll frowned and moved closer to her mother, leaning against her sadly. Linda looked down and smiled weakly at her and held her close._

"_Who cares if we can't listen to the radio and we don't get the newspaper! I just want Link to come home!" Aryll cried._

"_Can they not… see me?" Link wondered._

_This, Link noticed, seemed to pierce the rest of his family like a dagger. They all frowned and stared at the floor, avoiding each other's gaze. _

"_Its… it's been five years now, hasn't it?" asked Linda tentatively. _

'_Five years!? I haven't even been gone one!' Link thought to himself, confused._

"_Yes, it has… Five years. We never heard from him once, after all this time…" Bernard said._

"_Dad, you don't think—"_

_Bernard sighed and hung his head sadly._

"_I think it is a real possibility, John. As much as I detest the thought…it… It seems to be true!" he said angrily. "Last we heard, Hyrule was pushed out of Termina and Sumeria, and a renewed invasion into Sumeria was underway. That's the last we heard of the Hyrulean army! How can an entire army just vanish? And if an entire army of millions can just disappear, then what do you think will would happen to just one, insignificant soldier in the midst of it!?"_

"_Daddy, no!" Aryll cried. "Link wouldn't die! Not… not Link! How could you even think that!?"_

"_Because I'm being realistic, Aryll. He may have been irreplaceable to us, but to everyone else he was just another common soldier to be thrown away in battle. That's all any of us would be! That's all… And that's all Link was… Just another pawn for those bastards who make these pointless wars in the first place!"_

_A grim silence prevailed then, and none of them could bear to even glance at one another. His sister and his mother began to cry, and his brother put his head down on the table. They were letting the reality of what his father had said sink in._

_That same reality struck Link like a thunderbolt. _

"_This is…all a dream? Am I… Did I…die?"_

_Link ran from the room, blinking back tears as he dashed down the hall and out the front door. He tripped and tumbled down the stairs painfully, landing on his stomach. He groaned and looked up slowly. Scrambling to his feet, he took several steps back in shock. _

_Standing in the middle of the path that lead from the house to the old dirt road, several figures were blocking the way and were staring at him. _

_Ingo, the bottle in his hand and his bloodshot eyes open wide and piercing Link's soul. The strange horse from before, its mane fluttering beautifully in the wind. The horse and Ingo seemed to nod at him, and Ingo waved almost sadly at Link as he dissolved into his own shadow. From it, several new figures began to rise and take shape. _

_Two girls, one in her early teens, the other around Link's age. They both had fiery red hair, ragged clothes and their stares pierced him even more than Ingo's bloodshot stare had. A young man only slightly older than Link, his blue hair cut short and his powerful muscles bulging through his shredded clothing. Another man, older, with the first small bit of his red hair giving way to balding. Another girl, ragged and wretched like the other two and younger than Link, her greasy brown hair matted to her head tightly._

_Finally, as the last of Ingo's shadow dissipated, Colin appeared at his side and stared distantly at the figures on the path. Link shivered and shrunk away from Colin and the staring figures, and they all turned to look at him strangely. _

_The horse whinnied and melted away into the air as it reared up on its hind legs, and Link felt almost sad to see it go. The blue-haired man sighed as the ground swallowed him up, and all traces of him vanished. Colin and two of the girls walked forward, fading slowly as they walked into each other. _

_All that was left was the older girl with the red hair and the aging man. He patted the girl affectionately on the shoulder as shadows from the ground swallowed him up, and Link was left alone on the path with the girl._

_She smiled weakly at him through the greasy hair which covered most of her face, and sighed sadly. Link felt sad and even a little angry as he looked at her in her wretched state, even though he did not know her. He worked up his nerve and opened his mouth to speak._

"_Hey! What's your name?" he asked cautiously, taking a step forward._

_She looked about to answer, her mouth opening very slightly, but then she turned her head towards the ground. Sobbing quietly, a single tear rolled down her cheek and fell towards the path. Link watched it fall, slower than it really should have, and gasped as everything went dark when it hit the ground. _

_  
He heard the girl sob again, and then nothing._

* * *

Carentan, three days after victory

The field hospital was set up in a rundown apartment building only a few blocks from what had very recently been the front lines. While it had originally been much larger, most of the top stories had been obliterated during the battles that had ravaged the city. Nonetheless, the lower levels were still very much intact, and after placing numerous support beams and reinforcing the building in many locations it was one of the safest places in the city during the battle.

Inside, it had been a less than pleasant place. After clearing out the rubble and knocking down most of the interior walls to create one long room, it actually looked somewhat fitting for its intended role. The fact that the floor tiles were damaged and outright missing in some places, the paint was peeling off the wall in horrendous amounts, and a very mild yet lingering odor of death from the basement refused to go away was inconsequential.

The long building was filled tightly with hundreds of beds on the first floor alone, and two more floors above it were still standing and in use. Just about every bed was occupied by a wounded soldier, and some whimpered and moaned in pain as they slept. Some of the worse cases screamed in agony throughout the night, and more still lie motionless as haggard surgeons and nurses worked on them as quietly as they could. Every now and then, the medical staff would have to wheel out a dead body on a gurney, and a few minutes later they would return with a new wounded man and place him in the dead one's spot.

Silent, like white clad phantoms, they moved through the rows of beds and saw to each man long into the night. Most would be ready to collapse from exhaustion when morning came, and there would be no respite then, as medical staff was overwhelmed and there always seemed to be dying patients to see to, no matter how many were saved or passed on.

Through half open eyes, Link watched flakes of dust drift in the moonlight that streamed through the open windows. The chilly and salty night air of the coast caressed his face gently in lazy breezes. Only the occasional moan and squeak of feet and wheels on the uneven flooring broke the silence. Outside, only supply trucks moving through the streets and the night shift of cleanup crews made any noise, and they were far away from the streets along the hospital.

It was a quiet night, for a place that had only recently been a war zone almost as fierce as the beaches of Great Bay. The guns had not fired for awhile now. He closed his eyes and breathed out slowly, calmly. Perhaps the Brynyans were in full rout, and there was nothing left to fire at. He decided he liked that theory, and opened his eyes to stare at the moonlight again.

The bits of dust dancing in the moonlight transfixed him, and he felt he could almost see shapes in it, moving, alive. Beckoning to him. But then he would blink and they would vanish, and try as he might, he could never make them out again. Frowning, he looked away from the moonbeam next to him and stared at the darkness above him.

There was no lighting in the field hospital, and only the full moon of that night allowed the medical staff to work until the sun rose again. Thus, the ceiling was cloaked in an impenetrable blanket of darkness, and when one stared hard into it, everything seemed to be alive and moving behind that darkness.

Link thought he could see the things from the dream in the darkness; the same dream he'd had seemingly hundreds of times. He had no real way of knowing how many it really was, just as he had no way of knowing what time it was or what day it was, or even how long it had been since he had been felled on the field of battle.

Though he felt as if he had looked himself over countless times, since he had awoken for the first time in what seemed like ages, he never could find what was wrong with him. He could hardly tell why they were even keeping him in the hospital, but he didn't see the point in complaining. As long as he was considered unfit for combat, his life wouldn't be in any danger.

It wasn't that he was afraid of battle, but like any normal soldier, he wasn't too keen on dying. Though like any devout Hyrulean, he would give his life for his country if he had to, and he didn't doubt for a moment that he likely would end up giving his life for his country at some point, death was not something he looked forward to and would rather avoid it at all costs.

Despite his reservations about actually dying, he still felt the conviction he had felt in Great Bay burning inside him. He was a soldier of Hyrule and he was here to fight and bleed for his country. His comrades would all do the same, and the Goddesses would spare the worthy ones a painful death.

_Goddess of Courage, hear my cry. I will fight with honor, and with honor die. _He thought of the chant and smiled.Even though he was still inexperienced in war by any standard, he already knew firsthand how much things like that belittled the real thing.He actually preferred looking at war like that though, because it seemed to make the fact that he was almost surely destined to die on the battlefield someday at least slightly more bearable.

He closed his eyes and sighed sadly. His mind was in complete disarray, possibly the effects of some drug or a subconscious reaction to him finding himself apparently wounded in the field hospital. Half of him wanted to boldly boast he had no fear of death and would wade into battle proudly, his resolve steeled by his faith in Hyrule. The other half, which he knew had always been there just as it was for everybody else, was a complete coward and wanted to flee from anything that had even a remote chance of killing him.

Something told him those feelings were only temporary, and he hoped so. He had no wish to die with a bullet lodged in his back after he turned and ran from the fight.

A stirring to his left woke him from his deep thoughts. Through the beam of moonlight, Link saw a bleary eyed and confused Colin sitting up in his bed. The boy looked around, half awake, unsure of where he was, until he noticed Link. His eyes widened and he fell back down on the bed with a grunt.

"So it all just wasn't a dream then," he muttered.

"What wasn't?" whispered Link.

"That fight…in the square. Tanks…the statue. And you fainted, or something… The tanks were going to crush you as they rolled right over everything… The Brynyans were unstoppable, they just kept killing everybody and all of our tanks..."

"So that's why I'm here then," mused Link. "But if we couldn't stop them there how come we won the battle?"

Colin looked at him strangely. "How can you tell?"

"It's too quiet for there to be a battle going on," he said, gesturing out the window between their beds with his thumb. "And we're clearly still inside a city, and Carentan is the only one around the coast that I know of, and the air smells like sea air. It's pretty obvious," chuckled Link.

"I guess my attention to detail isn't nearly as good as yours then, Link. But it is a wonder that we won that battle in the end… I wonder if I…naw, no way, not me…"

"What?"

"You remember that large old aqueduct that was sitting over the square? I don't think anyone missed it, it was way too obvious. I shot it with a bazooka as the tanks were getting closer and closer to crushing us…I think I fainted after I fired it, or something." He paused to rub the back of his head gingerly. "But I wonder if it fell and crushed all the Brynyan tanks, or something…"

Link laughed a little too loud and he could feel many eyes suddenly look towards him, but not directly on him. He shut up before anyone could pinpoint the exact source of the disturbance, instead chuckling quietly.

"I don't know about you Colin, but I think that would have to be the most amazing thing I've ever heard. And if it really did happen then… That's incredible, what are the odds of that happening after all? But I guess you'll find out soon enough, so I wouldn't worry about it too much."

Colin nodded slowly and sighed, scratching the back of his head. "I dunno, Link… what do you think they'll do with us? Justicar Ralph and the others will probably be deployed ahead of us by the time we're out of here."

"Colin," Link began sadly, "It doesn't really matter where they send us. We're going to be fighting and most likely dying no matter where we go. But if you want my honest opinion, I'm pretty sure we'll be redeployed to reserve units with a new squad, far from the front lines. When we're out of here, I'm sure the army will have fought its way too deep into Termina for them to waste time sending two soldiers out to rejoin their squad."

"Oh," Colin said, sounding somewhat disappointed. "Well I guess that's not a bad thing though. We won't get shot at if we're not on the front lines."

* * *

Carentan, one month after victory

The northern border of Carentan proper was marked by the last of the taller buildings one would see as they traveled north. They were no larger than any others in the city, but they seemed to tower over the outskirts of the city which stretched away before them, which were made up of smaller and much more meager dwellings that had been owned by the poor of the city. Still, they had been a vibrant district of the city in their own right, and the people living there, though generally down on their luck, had lived a quiet life in a peaceful city.

Now, the outskirts, or slums as the Hyruleans called them, heedless of the respect all Terminians held for all their people regardless of wealth or intelligence, had been all but annihilated. The tiny homes had stood like haystacks before a tornado when the Brynyan tanks first rolled into the city. In their retreat, the Brynyans seemed to cause even more destruction without an orderly and planned deployment as they had had when they attacked.

Amongst the rubble that had been homes to several thousand people, there was new construction. Several rows of trenches, dug deep into the scorched ground and stretched all across Carentan's northern front. Bunkers, large imposing concrete fortifications reinforced with iron and steel, towered ominously over the trench lines even as they burrowed deep into the ground. Mortars and artillery were gradually carried and set up behind the trenches, set inside their own pit like fortifications that they could fire safely out of.

Beyond the trenches, sandbag emplacements and camouflaged machine gun nests pockmarked the landscape. Nervous sappers dashed recklessly through the ruined slums, setting mines in the ground which would be remotely triggered by unfortunate men stationed in the sandbag emplacements beyond the safety of the trenches. Behind the buildings that towered over the ruins, hundreds of tanks and armored vehicles waited for deployment. The trenches were cleverly designed so that the standard Hyrulean Conqueror could drive over them with little difficulty, whereas the track design of the Brynyan tanks would find difficulty in accomplishing the same feat.

Should the Brynyans decide to build their own trenches outside the city in the fields and seek to turn it into a bloody and devastating trench war, Hyrulean armor would surge across the trench line, through the ruins, and obliterate any Brynyan construction quickly and cleanly. The plan, as General Gilbear himself said, was nearly flawless.

The plan actually was to ensure the Hyrulean foothold in Termina would not be lost. No matter what would occur in the coming months as they battled across the so called 'Sea of Grass' that dominated most of Termina outside the cities, their armies would always have an immensely powerful stronghold to fall back to. As Hyrulean tacticians were already predicting an immensely difficult fight actually breaking out of the city and into the fields of Termina proper, General Gilbear decided there was no better time to make sure Carentan was impregnable. His fellow commanders, General Tarence and General Militor, seconded his plan as it gave their vast forces the time they needed to assemble and prepare for their crusades across Termina.

However, each general was still eager to prove themselves beyond the scope of their fellows. As people in similar positions of power are wont to do, each of them believed they were the better commander, and as Lord Militant Draenor observed the invasion from his command ship _The Litany of Farore_, all three were sure to make some very arrogant and stupid mistakes in their quest for his favor. A recommendation from the Lord Militant himself was almost ensured to gain an individual the title of Grand Marshal, second only to the Lord Militant. And with a war quickly consuming the entire world, the power at the disposal of any of the Grand Lords, be they Chaplain, Bishop, Marshal, or Duke, was less only than the Lord Militant and the blessed Royal Family themselves.

Gilbear's mind was already scheming towards achieving such an end, as there was only one known opening in the ranks of the Grand Marshals. After a grueling battle at Carentan which should have gone far smoother and left far more of the city intact, Gilbear knew he needed an astounding victory to gain the Lord Militant's favor, though he knew not that Draenor was hardly paying attention to the actions in Termina and was formulating a greater plan to bring Brynya to its knees.

The numerous small villages that were located to the north of Carentan were small communities, the home of only a few families or perhaps only one. Farm buildings made up most of their construction, and the villages worked together to farm many thousands of acres in the fields to the north. Now, they were all abandoned and occupied by the Brynyans, who had made little effort disguising the fact that some of the villagers were still there, in their custody. The original plan had been to destroy the villages one by one with a systematic barrage by the Tri-guns. As they could only be fired once a day, it would have taken awhile, but been the safest route for the Hyruleans to take as they fortified Termina.

But with hostages in the villages, Lord Militant Draenor, who had ordered the plan in the first place, cancelled it immediately but had given no further orders to his generals. Gilbear had mulled the situation over many times, and decided that, for the sake of his own career, he would take the villages and complete the fortification of Carentan at the same time, thus making the roads into Termina proper immensely easy for Tarence and Militor and making himself appear all the more glorious.

Though he appeared to be a pompous idiot, Gilbear was amazingly adept in the ways of war, and had he not suffered from an incredible streak of bad luck in his early career, he might have been named a Grand Marshal a while ago. So, as he closely monitored surveillance of the villages, he slowly formulated his plan.

Gilbear was noted to have said to his aide, "The first move in this particular game of blood and bodies would appear to belong to us, but no, I shall give it to the Brynyans."

They'd waited all through the night, struggling to keep awake as they stared across the ruins of the slums from their positions in the almost finished trenches. Their eyes were heavy and bloodshot from fatigue, and many were growing increasingly antsy with the waiting and not being able to take a break for sleep. The plan, as much of it they had been told, required precise timing. Standing on firing steps, watching where the darkness of the distant swaying fields met the blackness of the night sky, they waited, their hearts pounding in their chests.

Link leaned against the trench wall tiredly, his eyes drooping slightly every now and then. He felt someone pinch his left arm, and snapped wide awake again. Wordlessly, he pinched the arm of the man to his right and watch him repeat the process down the line of men in the trench. The forward trench. The front line.

He sighed and hung his head. He didn't bother to look around, because there was nothing to see except darkness. Something told him the general was insane to come up with a plan that could only be implemented in the dark. So many of the men would be too exhausted to fight or even shoot straight, if they could see the enemy at all. At least, that's what he and most of his fellow soldiers thought.

To his left, his former Justicar Ralph, now demoted to Corporal, pounding his fist against the trench wall impatiently. Talo to his right, watching the horizon from a firing step, drummed his finger nervously against the trench lip. Past him Colin, Malo, and Rawne sat with their backs to the trench wall, sleeping. Leaning back and craning his neck around, Link noticed most of the men not on watch duty at a firing step were doing the same thing, despite orders to remain awake. He could hardly blame any of them, and thought it was incredibly stupid of any commander to expect new soldiers still exhausted from their first tastes of combat to stay up all night watching for something which may not even happen.

But Tancred, now Justicar of their squad, which had shocked Link to no end and almost brought Colin to tears, had drilled it into all of their heads the importance of this, and that it would indeed happen sometime that night. Link remembered the Tancred from training, and the somewhat noble Tancred they saw during the assault on Great Bay. Now, he was a strange blend of the two, seemingly proud they had gotten as far as they did but still completely disgusted with them as human beings. As Ralph had put it, he liked them as soldiers but despised them as people. A strange way of thinking it seemed to Link, but he wasn't one to argue with a man like Tancred.

Talo stumbled and nearly fell backward off the firing step suddenly. Link turned to look at him, and he looked down at Link and smiled sheepishly.

"This is so boring… Din help me but, I think I'm just going to fall asleep standing if I stay up here much longer."

Link yawned and nodded, signaling for him to move out of the way. Stepping onto the firing step, Link took his first good and long look at the ruined slums of Carentan. Hundreds of small homes, crushed and ground into the earth. Nothing but memories remained of what they had once been, and given how much the Brynyans eradicated their homes, something told Link even the memories might not be around anymore. All the inhabitants were likely dead by now, either killed in the initial attack or having perished in one of Brynya's prison camps.

He looked away and tried to block out the images of a Hyrule burned and broken like this. All the death and the killing… Sighing sadly, he gripped his rifle tightly and knew what it was all for. No matter the alliances between Termina and Hyrule, they had come not to solely liberate them, but to save themselves. If Brynya had been unopposed here and now, then all of Hyrule would be transformed into a burning wasteland of war. Termina hadn't put up much of a fight, so it was spared much destruction.

But Hyrule would resist. It would fight Brynya with all it had if they attacked Hyrule, because unlike Termina, Hyrule had an army with the strength to resist Brynya. If Hyrule was invaded by a foe of Brynya's power, the ensuing war would annihilate most of the country in the raging battles, no matter who won the war in the end.

Link sighed and reprimanded himself. They were here to defeat Brynya and save Termina, not berate them for being unable to save themselves. They were not a people whose nation had been forged in the fires of war, and held together through the centuries by war like Hyrule. Theirs had been a history of peace for the most part. They couldn't be to blame for letting destruction like what was before him befall them.

"I know what you're thinking, boy. And you're about half right."

Link whirled around and nearly fainted when he saw Tancred, in full battledress, standing behind him. Even while he was standing on the trench floor and not a firing step, Link noticed how Tancred still towered over him. He was gazing out into the ruins too, and there was a look in his eye that told Link this wasn't the bloodthirsty man who had trained them all. At least, not at the moment.

"After Ville d'horloge fell and the King and Queen were executed in the square of Aborwatch, Termina essentially had the fight ripped out of them. Still, the Brynyans rolled over them enslaved them violently, regardless whether or not the Terminians offered resistance."

"Sir…?"

"Their army was always weak but… Termina should have been able to hold off the Brynyans at least for a little while. That's what they had all believed, yet their hopes were snuffed out effortlessly by the Brynyans."

He slowly refocused his gaze on Link, glancing side to side and noting the rest of the squad were listening intently, in addition to many other men close by. His hand gripped the handle of his chain blade tightly and he frowned, as if something had unsettled him.

"That is why you, all of you, are here. The citizens of Termina are a people in ruin. Across the Brynyan Empire, they are contained in wretched camps with the other people conquered by Brynya. They are slowly wasting away, and their future is uncertain and grim. All of them, from the strongest of men to the smallest of children, are going to die. But they are not without hope. Word reaches them even now, despite where they are and…they know of us. They know we've come to defeat the Brynyan Empire and burn that wretched land to the ground once and for all. All of us are now a catalyst of their hope. Despite what you may be told by your commanders, despite your thoughts that you are here only to protect Hyrule," he shot Link a quick glance and Link looked away and cursed under his breath, "never forget you have a purpose here beyond defeating Brynya and dying for your country. You are saviors, the last hope to a people about to die out forever. And it's not just the Terminians. Labrynyans, Sumerians, and even Seleucians need you. Never forget that. Ever."

Even if anyone had wanted to say something, they couldn't. Mere moments after he finished his speech the northwestern sky was suddenly alight with scores of bright flashes and the air was filled with the distant boom of artillery.

Link and all the other men looked into the sky at the flashes in awe. It was just as they had been told. The Brynyans had begun their bombardment. And now…

"All of you, move it! Out of the trench now! Stick with your squads and squads with your platoons!" The voices of Tancred and numerous other officers screamed over the distant roar of Brynyan artillery. "This is it! Goddesses be with you all, we win here or we die! There is no turning back for anyone! For Hyrule!"

Guided by the glow of the enemy artillery, two hundred thousand men of Gilbear's forces surged through the ruins of Carentan's slums, and into the fields beyond.

The invasion of central Termina had begun.

* * *

xakattak's A/N: All right, well I don't have much to say other than credit to this chapter goes almost wholly to LinkIsaacANDLloyd, with me just editing grammar/spelling. We would like to ask that you review, and leave us reviews that we can actually take something from please. While many of our readers leave us helpful and meaningful reviews, the occasional 'good work' doesn't help much, though it does make us feel a little cool. Regardless, constructive criticism or suggestions are welcome. Thanks.


	13. Liberating Lon

**Chapter 13: Liberating Lon**

The Brynyan super-heavy tank, the Titan, screeched slowly to a halt for well over the fiftieth time that night. Shouting, cursing, and all too eager to shoot something, the Titan's crew clambered out of the massive machine and hopped to the ground. Behind them, the entire column sighed collectively as word reached them concerning the state of the tank.

Soldiers glanced around nervously from their perches on tank hulls, the back of troop trucks, and the inside of half-tracks. The tall grasses of Termina's central fields rose up around them and stretched into the darkness as far as any of them could see. Stretching behind the column for hundreds of miles, the grass had been crushed and pushed down and out of the way by the Titan at the head of the column, to make a path for the rest of the vehicles.

The plan had seemed perfect at the time. As per the orders of General Dragmire, they had pulled out of their position in the prison camps and were making their way to Aborwatch and Ville d'horloge as fast as they could. They had figured if they cut through the fields, they could arrive days if not weeks earlier. What they hadn't considered, was that the grass had grown since they had first conquered Termina. Now, it was much taller and far thicker. Somehow, instead of simply being crushed by the heavy vehicles, it got snagged underneath them and, if left unchecked, crippled their movement.

Desperate, they had deployed the only Titan in their possession to the front of the column, figuring its superior weight would make it immune the grass's slowing effects, and it would push it down so much the vehicles behind it would be safe as well.

Unfortunately for them, even the Titan was not invulnerable, for it had been designed to be deployed in wide open spaces and to smash through city streets, not crawl slowly through thick plant life, due to the large amount of hanging machinery on its underbelly. As if it were alive and consciously attempting to impede their march, the almost impossibly thick grass had jammed the Titan countless times, getting snagged and caught up by the machinery of the tank's underbelly. Still, with the Titan in front the rest of the column was unhindered, and so they had pressed on anyway. Now though, it was getting worse and they were too deep into the fields to turn back and follow the road.

The imagination of the soldiers was slowly infecting the entire column, and every soldier was shivering, trying not to look at the dark, thick forest of grass which surrounded them. It was tall enough to easily hide a fully grown, massive man, and even the more level headed soldiers began to worry. Anyone with a mind to could ambush their column, and there was very little they could do with almost all of their war machines rendered useless and most of their soldiers exhausted from the strenuous journey so far. They weren't even sure where they were, their radios were malfunctioning or broken, and the possibility of becoming stranded indefinitely in Termina's enormous plains when their vehicles ran out of fuel was quickly becoming a likely scenario for them.

When, all of a sudden, the western skies ahead of them were lit up by scores of artillery flashes and their radios suddenly burst to life, the entire column cheered and breathed a sigh of relief. Just ahead were Brynyan held villages, and to the south was the Hyrulean held city of Carentan. With Carentan coming under heavy bombardment and a clear path to the villages only a few hours away, the column suddenly felt at ease. Their long journey through the fields was almost over, and other than being tired and frustrated, they were none the worse for wear.

* * *

Thrall-master Dietrich Gertracht, a man in his early fifties who had been with the Brynyan military his entire working life, was a resentful and wretched man. He hunched down in a corner of a troop truck, his long greasy hair hiding his face as he watched with annoyance the antics of the suddenly relieved and happy soldiers. Peering inside his large, thick coat, he ruffled around in its interior pockets.

He pulled out a thin stack of poorly developed photographs and sighed in relief as he looked through them. 

Licking his lips, he reveled in the glorious work he did. As an afterthought, he felt some of his instruments through his coat and grinned to himself.

He looked at the soldiers around him slowly, and wondered if they would be as much fun as the prisoners if he was given the chance to work on them. The prisoners had screamed and pleaded for mercy and even death, he remembered. Recalling the sounds and smells of his hideous research, and the pictures of it he held in his hands, he almost began to drool. It was such glorious work, and he did it all for his Emperor's vision for the future.

Lost in his thoughts, he was unable to register the explosions that suddenly erupted all around him. Soldiers cried out as they reached for their rifles and jumped to their feet, shouting incoherent things, something about 'Hyruleans'. They were cut down with amazing speed, their bodies twisting as they fell back and spasmed as they died on the back of the truck. More explosions, and the halftrack behind them erupted in a column of fire as the entire vehicle was flung away from the formation and into the fields.

He stood up, laughing as the last shred of sanity he had retained slipped away, almost believing the bloodshed around him was his doing, as if he was back in his lab at the prison. A bullet grazed his shoulder, and he was pulled out of his madness long enough to note the blood bubbling from the wound. Brushing it off, he laughed some more, and he fell to the truck bed when a bullet struck him in the temple, and passed through his skull and out the other side. Convulsing, his mouth was formed into a permanent and twisted smile as he died, his pictures scattered all over the truck bed.

* * *

The Brynyan column never stood a chance. The Hyruleans came upon them seemingly from nowhere, almost completely invisible in the grass, and completely invisible with the added cover of the darkness. Most of the Brynyan troops were asleep, and the frenzied Hyrulean draftees cut down thousands of well trained and veteran heavy infantry with ease. Most of the vehicles were burning, and they were given a wide berth as more than one of them spontaneously exploded, sending flaming debris and shrapnel in every direction and killing many Hyruleans in the process.

Hyrulean officers stood around the lead vehicle, one of the fearsome Titan tanks, and they couldn't help but smile. The one real flaw of the Titans, and most Brynyan tanks, was how low their hulls sat to the ground and the exposed machinery that was located underneath them. Anything could get caught up in it and cripple the tank's movement, even though the Brynyans went about like the Titans were invincible. The first one engaged by Hyrule's troops hadn't even been able to fire on them, as its crew was caught outside frantically trying to untangle the tank from the local plant life.

The members of squad 132B, of the Hyrulean 96th rifle corps, were walking down the column towards the head, searching for their Justicar in the chaotic mess. At the suggestion of the corporal, they stopped by a Brynyan troop truck and decided to let him find them.

"Its unnerving, you know," said Talo.

"What is?" said Rawne as he fished around in his pocket for a cigarette, a habit he had picked up in Carentan.

"How easy this was. We just attacked, shot at them, and five minutes later here we are. I'm not complaining, but it's got me on edge now that I think about it."

"An easy battle has you on edge? Are you stupid, Talo?" Malo said, giving his brother a light slap on the back of the head. "This was a damn miracle far as I'm concerned, after that shit on the beach and in Carentan."

Everyone chuckled and nodded. None of them could disagree with that. Talo remained unconvinced, however.

"That may be, but there's still something about this…maybe it's this truck or something, who knows, but 

something's got me spooked."

"Did you ever think that maybe you're just retarded?" asked Rawne with a grin as he tried to light his cigarette with a barely functioning lighter. "Why would this truck spook you?"

"Well whatever it is, it's got me too," Colin said with a shiver.

Everyone except Ralph and Link looked at him and laughed. "You're always scared anyway!" they chorused.

"All of you, shut up," snapped Ralph as he sat with his back against one of the truck's tires. "Link, climb up on this damn truck and see what's got these idiots so scared."

Link nodded, strapped his rifle over his shoulder, and climbed onto the truck bed slowly and pulled out a small flashlight. Looking around, all he saw were dead Brynyans and their guns, and their ammunition clips scattered all over. He noticed most of the Brynyans sported bullet holes in their foreheads, and he contemplated that whoever shot at them was either extremely lucky or a highly talented marksman.

Then, he noticed something strange. One of the dead men wasn't a soldier at all, and didn't even appear to be carrying any kind of firearm. He looked extremely dirty and almost slimy, but otherwise had been healthy enough. Given his pale complexion, he didn't seem to have seen the sun very often. The broken glasses lying next to him along with his other more intelligent features led Link to the assumption that he was some kind of researcher for the Brynyan Empire. The thing that really struck Link as strange was that the man had worn a long and thick trench coat on such a hot night.

"Find anything?" shouted Ralph.

"Maybe, hold on!" Link replied.

He smiled. Killing off a potential genius and asset to the enemy's long term war effort seemed all too sweet. Deciding to search the man for anything of interest, he attempted to push him over with his foot, causing one side of his long coat to fall open. He shined the flashlight on the open coat, revealing an array of vicious looking surgical equipment that shimmered in the light, marred by disturbing brownish stains that could have been blood. Link found himself recoiling at the sheer barbarity of the instruments. There almost seemed no point to some of them, other than to honestly inflict as much pain and suffering on an individual as was physically possible. Link was no surgeon, but almost none of them looked like they could enter someone's body and not kill them.

Preferring not to search his body after all, Link instead found the numerous pictures scattered around the man. They were all poorly developed, but something urged him to take them anyway. Not bothering to look at what they were of, he gathered them all up and hopped off the truck. Perhaps they'd turn out to be valuable intelligence, or something.

"What'd you find?" Ralph asked without looking at him.

Link wordlessly handed him the pictures and the flashlight. Looking through them, Ralph's face slowly twisted into an expression of complete and utter revulsion and uncontrollable anger.

"What the fuck is this shit…?" he hissed, the pictures shaking in his trembling hands.

"What is it?" asked Rawne, half interested as he grabbed several from Ralph's shaking hands. A long pause."…this is some fucked up shit," he gasped as he looked at one.

Their curiosity perked, soon every member of the squad was holding a picture, and they were all utterly disgusted. Colin gagged and threw his away, Talo nearly fainted, and Malo stared at it in shock. Link crumbled his up and threw it on the ground, clenching his teeth. He was about to crush it under his foot and ruin it against the ground when Tancred appeared behind him, and picked it up.

They all watched him silently as he flattened it out over his thigh and then stared long and hard at it. Wordlessly, he took the rest of the pictures and set them on fire with Rawne's lighter. He sighed heavily and shook his head.

"Where did you find those?"

Everyone pointed to the truck. Tancred shined his flashlight over the truck bed and clenched his fist.

"So…a thrall-master. They're doing it all over again…that explains the purpose of the Terminian camps."

"Doing what, sir?" asked Ralph.

"In the first Great War, Brynya used its captive civilians and soldiers as test subjects for all manner of experiments. It is said they were testing the human threshold for pain and suffering, as if they were trying to engineer a human beyond the normal, natural scope of ability. Whatever their purpose, these thrall-masters are an abomination. What they do to the prisoners in their care is nothing short of mutilation to a point beyond recognition. As the tales go, it's some kind of twisted game to create something bigger, faster, stronger." He spit on the ground and swore loudly. "All the more reason for us to win this war and burn that nation to the ground forever."

He turned off his flashlight and pocketed it, the distant flashes of the Brynyan artillery and flames of burning vehicles illuminated him in the dark eerily.

"But enough of that. Turn off your flashlights, all of you. We're moving out, and we can't afford to give our positions away, assuming wiping out this column didn't already do so. We're assaulting a heavily fortified position. It's not going to be like Carentan. They're done underestimating us, and this time we won't have any vehicle support, whereas the Brynyans will, and we'll be fighting across a lot of open ground without any cover at all. Our only chance is to attack without warning, and kill them all before they can coordinate a defense. If they know we're coming, then goddesses help us. I'll tell you when we're in position and when to attack. Other than that, try not to do anything…stupid." He cast a quick glance at Colin, aware of his actions at Carentan.

"Now let's move!"

* * *

Above them, the ceiling shook violently with each thundering clap of the guns. The sound, though muffled by the thick cellar doors, still rattled them to the bone. Bits of dirt dislodged from the ceiling and fell on their heads, covering them with soil. They groaned and whimpered as the thundering of the guns continued relentlessly. As the shaking grew more and more severe, some of them began to think the ground above them might just collapse completely and suffocate them under tons of soil.

Even if they weren't killed by their surroundings, then, they were sure, their captors would do away with them soon…

She watched, mesmerized, the cellar doors. They shook and rattled just like the ceiling and a sliver of light, too dim to be sunlight, shined through the crack between them on occasion. It was a good feeling to at least know for sure the relevant time of day. It was nighttime, and though everyone around her was panicked by the thundering above them, something about it reassured her. There was some feeling, in the back of her mind, that told her it was a good thing, that some miracle would be born from this terror that they now faced. Tears welled up in her eyes and she fell down to her knees, clasping her hands together and pleading desperately.

"Oh, goddesses, please listen! Please! I think this is our last chance… I fear we'll all be dead soon! Save us, please! None of us deserve to die like this!"

As she went on, her previous calm quickly deteriorated and she grew frantic, the fear of those around her infecting her mind. Soon, she was practically screaming her words, and most of the others joined her in kneeling and begging the goddesses for a miracle.

* * *

They approached the edge of the tall grasses and halted, the burning Brynyan column many miles behind them. Tens of thousands of men swarmed in the camouflage of the fields in a formation several miles long, peering through their cover at what was ahead of them.

It was a peculiar and unnerving sight. Several small villages, six upon counting them, dotted the land ahead of them, each several miles apart and connected by ill-maintained dirt roads. Farm buildings; silos, barns, stables, and other such structures were to the rear of them and much more widely spread. The pastures and fields around the villages were overgrown or barren, and there was presumably no livestock left, though perhaps the Brynyans had kept the animals alive to be used later.

Hastily built amongst the simple hamlets were many fortifications. Many fence lines, bunkers, a few towers along the fences, and defilades in the main roads throughout the villages. In each village square were the artillery batteries which continually shelled Carentan, though the Brynyans had no idea they were doing very little if any real damage at all to Hyrulean manpower. There were about three batteries in each village, and surrounding them each time was a circular trench dug into the squares. All the roads which led into the squares had machine guns trained on them, and defilades blocking off vehicle access as well. The largest village, Lon, had at least six batteries according to intelligence, and they were apparently more powerful than the rest. There was reason to believe then, that obviously Lon would be the toughest nut to crack.

Proving the Hyrulean speculations correct, in addition to the standard defenses of the other villages, Lon had many vehicles stationed throughout it. In the square, tanks were pulled into large sandbag emplacements connected with the trench line which protected them from most enemy retaliation, but gave them a full firing range over a given street with both their main cannons and some secondary guns.

All in all, it was surprising to see the extent of Brynya's hold on the villages. They were almost too small to even be worth any attention, and it was a wonder Brynya had even bothered to move in and take them in the first place, let alone hunker down and fortify them. Though that would help Brynya immensely now, beforehand there was absolutely nothing to be gained from holding the villages. Either Brynya's tacticians were absolute idiots, mused Hyrule's commanders, or they were military geniuses who could predict their enemies' future moves like no other. It seemed to be the former, because there was no indication whatsoever that Brynya even expected a night attack by Hyrule. There were only a precious few exhausted sentries sitting around in the towers, with the rest of the enemy forces presumably sleeping or getting drunk as Brynyan soldiers seemed wont to do.

It came as an immense surprise then, when the villages came to life in an instant. All the lights turned on and alarms began wailing, and the shouts of thousands of men awakening was all too audible. And the artillery had suddenly ceased.

Without a second thought, the Hyrulean forces were ordered to advance. Breaking cover, throwing out all necessity for subtlety, the army began the perilous charge across the dangerous open ground to the villages, the sanctuary of the fields and the tall grass disappearing behind them.

* * *

The Hyrulean 96th and fourteen other regiments were assigned the most grueling task of all, the village of Lon. It was only slightly larger than the others, but its defenses massively eclipsed the rest. General Gilbear had reviewed the performances of many of his regiments during the battles of Great Bay and Carentan, and sent only those that he felt had fought harder than all the rest to attack Lon.

Originally, the idea had been to simply swarm the villages before the Brynyans could get to their positions, 

but that plan had gone awry. Tipped off by some unknown factor, the Hyruleans and Brynyans were racing against each other in a race that would decide the fate of thousands of lives. At Lon at least, the Brynyans proved victorious and manned their defenses while the Hyruleans were still in the middle of the open ground.

Since the artillery had ceased firing, the only light had been from the villages, and Hyrule's forces had found it much more favorable in aiding their vision than the artillery flashes from earlier. Gilbear would be getting an earful later about not issuing every soldier with a personal flashlight before the battle.

Adding to the glow, streams of orange flashes lit up the vision of the Hyruleans. Bullets rained on them and cut hundreds down immediately, and the storm of lead only thickened with every second as more and more Brynyans added their guns to the onslaught.

Some Hyruleans took a knee and returned fire on the Brynyans. Their black uniforms were easily spotted amidst all the light against their backs, but the Hyruleans were even easier to spot. Shooting blindly into the dark, the Brynyans instantly tore apart any location where a muzzle flash suddenly presented them with a clear target. Those Hyruleans brave enough, or stupid enough, to return fire were killed almost instantly after they fired. They stood out like a sore thumb and scores died before the brave and stupid ones were all but weeded out by the Brynyans.

Nearing the gates of Lon, the widely spaced Hyrulean soldiers began to tread on the light-bathed sections of ground before the village, and searchlights darted about illuminating targets for the Brynyan soldiers. The ground was littered thickly with bodies in seconds, and it seemed the entire Hyrulean force would be broken right there, until one Brynyan soldier, scared witless and praying he would make it through the ordeal alive, stumbled onto one of the land mines.

The explosion ruined the vision of most of the Brynyan shooters, and Hyruleans were soon pouring through the gates, into the trenches, along the fence line. Several more mines were triggered, but they were spaced too far apart to truly pose much of a threat.

Dust from the mines blew over the Brynyans and completely blinded them, and before many realized it, their outer defenses were being overrun. Buildings and side alleys near the village gates were cleared immediately, and battle was joined on the main road leading to the square. The fighting vicious, Hyruleans and Brynyans alike broke off from the battle on the road and pushed through the town along other paths.

The fighting was absurdly cramped, the village much too small a battleground for so many troops. The Hyruleans had to gain ground fast or most of their men would die simply because they had nowhere to safely stand. The Brynyans knew this and crushed every Hyrulean advance on the main road brutally. There, the fighting was at a stalemate.

The fate of the battle would be decided along the smaller, back alleys between the original homes and the new buildings erected by the Brynyan invaders. The true scale of Brynyan's additions to the villages had been vastly underestimated, and each of them was proving a far larger battlefield than anyone could have guessed.

Everything rested on reaching the village square, crushing its defenses, and taking out the command station hidden behind everything else at the rear of the village.

* * *

Link leaned his back against the trench wall and breathed deeply, catching his breath. His heart hammered in his chest from the dash to the village; he felt like he might pass out. It was painfully warm that night, and, looking around for at least the tenth time, he realized he had no idea where his squad was. In the previous chaos however, it wouldn't have been hard for anyone to lose track of such a small, undermanned squad. He wondered why they hadn't had more men added to them, but decided it didn't really matter.

Looking to his right, he remembered that he wasn't all alone at least. Rawne, catching his breath too, looked dangerously close to falling asleep despite all the noise around him. Link punched him in the shoulder and he 

jumped up and looked around quickly, looking through the sights on his rifle. He noticed Link there and chuckled.

"This is quite the situation here, Linky-poo…" Link cringed at the nickname but still laughed weakly at Rawne's massive understatement.

"I don't know about you, but there is no way in hell I'm going up there on the main road," said Link quietly. "I've been taking peeks, and it'd be suicide. Besides, Tancred isn't here to make us do it and neither is Ralph."

"We'd be dead with lead in our faces by now if Tancred were here, that's for damn sure," laughed Rawne. "So what DO we do, huh? I like living as much as anyone but I'm not going to pussy out of a battle just because there isn't someone here to tell me to fight. You?"

Link sighed. He could have guessed Rawne would actually _want_ to fight and risk his life. When Link considered that he would probably be summarily executed if he was caught avoiding combat purposely, he felt his hands unconsciously tighten around his rifle.

"Well let's go then," said Link. "I'm not gonna let you make me look like a coward, we'll go kick some ass together."

"That's what I like to hear!" shouted Rawne. "But, in the interest of _possibly_ avoiding death and living to see the even greater battles that are to come in this war, let's not go on the main road, 'k?"

"Agreed. We can follow this trench and see where it leads, it probably weaves back into the village like a maze, or something," said Link, looking over his shoulder and down the trench.

Strangely enough, there were no other Hyruleans in the trench as they walked, just dead Brynyans. And more dead Brynyans. As they turned right around a corner to work their way into the village, there were even more. And more. Plus, the first dead Hyrulean. His face looked oddly familiar to both Rawne and Link, but neither said anything or even stopped to see if they could put a name to him. Both were too focused on what was ahead of them.

As they progressed, the sounds of battle echoed all around them, though they never actually saw anything more than smoke and sparks. Constantly their path was covered in bodies, almost always Brynyan. Someone had been this way already, and was a very powerful soldier, given the extremely imbalanced ratio between dead Brynyans and Hyruleans.

Ahead, the shallow trench dipped down, so that it was actually reasonably deep for a trench. After that, it ran into the side of one of the houses, apparently leading into the building seeing as how there was a gaping hole in the side of the house where the trench ended. It was there at the end of the trench, before the gaping hole, where the Hyrulean dead were heaped.

Link cursed and Rawne looked visibly shaken. They ran over to the corpses, counting at least twenty or more dead right there. From the look of things, they hadn't been moved either. Where they were, that's how the men had died. Link clenched his fist in anger, wondering what did this, as Rawne looked cautiously towards the hole. Taking a few steps towards it, he leaned down and angled his head so he could look up it.

The trench sloped up at the last minute to get level with the floor of the house, though it was very minor. Rawne noted the several dead Brynyans lying along the slope, especially noticing the gaping wounds on their chests and abdomens. He'd only seen that once before. On the beach.

There was only one weapon that could have inflicted those wounds, and he only knew of one person who carried one.

"Link!" he whispered, gesturing him over as he stepped through the hole slowly. "I think Tancred and the 

others have been through here." Link noticed the bodies and grinned weakly.

"Yea, only Tancred could do that…" His gaze wondered up into the house itself, and he pulled his rifle to a firing position instantly. "Rawne, look out!"

The house, relatively quiet given the raging battle not too far away, was suddenly alight with bullets. Brynyans throughout the room shrieked and fired at anything that moved. Taking out two that had been gaping at them in the hole for who knew how long, Link dropped to his stomach and, using the stinking Brynyan corpses to hide his head as he peeked out, surveyed the room.

Just as it had sounded, the Brynyans' nerves were shot for some reason. They were still shooting at anything that moved, at shadows on the wall and floor, at each other. Something had truly shaken them. Glancing around at the bodies obviously left in Tancred's wake, Link didn't have to think hard to know what had pushed them so far.

Carefully, he raised his rifle and picked them off, clearing the right side of the room while Rawne cleared the left. When the coast seemed clear, they jumped up and ran to opposite sides of the room, Link finding all his targets dead and Rawne firing several times at cowering and dying soldiers.

Link secured the door and windows, shutting blinds and locking everything, while Rawne cautiously walked up the stairs. He found nothing but a large open second floor, filled with beds. Any walls that had been there had been torn away to turn the floor into a barracks for soldiers. Even though they had all woken up already and were out fighting, Rawne felt the urge to check the beds.

As he was going through them Link came up the stairs and looked around.

"I wonder whose house this was…" he said absentmindedly.

"Eh?" Rawne asked, not turning around as he tore the sheets off another bed and looked through them.

"I was just thinking to myself… who used to live here, what they were like… Before all this, you know?"

"Strange thing to be thinking at a time like this, Linky-poo," said Rawne, admonishing him.

"Like your looting isn't uncalled for, huh?" countered Link.

Rawne threw off a mattress and grabbed something from the bed it had previously been on. He stood up and turned around, facing Link as he held the object up to his face.

"I'm simply looking for…" he opened what appeared to be a diary. "…enemy intelligence." He flipped through the pages.

"Can you read Brynyan?"

"Uh…" Rawne looked up and, seeing his mistake, threw the book over his shoulder. "I guess I shouldn't have let myself get sidetracked, it's too dangerous for that right now," he sighed. "So what's it looking like out there?"

"Well, good news is the village square is right outside," grinned Link. "But the bad news is, there's a tank with its gun pointed right in this direction. I can't tell if anyone heard that skirmish or not, but there's probably going to be Brynyans coming through here to use the trench soon anyway, and at that point we have a whole mess of problems…"

Rawne sat down on a bed and laughed. "Ya know, I can't help but think this might have been one of the dumbest things I've ever done."

"One of them dumbest?" asked Link, leaning against the stair railing.

"Oh, you don't know the half of it," chuckled Rawne. "But that's not important right now! What do we do about our predicament? It's only a matter of time before they find us like you said. Besides, Tancred was through clearly through here already so let's see if we can find the crazy bastard!"

"We could do that, or we could sit up here and try to ambush several whole Brynyan companies as they funnel into the trench. Whichever you prefer," laughed Link.

"Oh I don't know, I guess I'll choose life, what do you think? There's gotta be another way out of here," he muttered, standing up and running down the stairs.

Link followed him slowly, moving to stand by the door and look outside as Rawne ran around the house like a headless chicken, tearing the place apart. Link thanked the Goddessess he was at least keeping quiet, because he knew there was no chance he'd calm him down.

The tank outside groaned as its main gun was directed towards the house they currently occupied. Watching it through a crack in the door, Link felt all the color drain from his face and the entire world around him go silent. The noise of the battle on the main road, and all the smaller battles throughout the village seemed to instantly stop.

Link darted toward Rawne, who was about to kick a seemingly weak-looking spot in the wall. Before Rawne knew what was going on, Link tackled him to the ground, aiming for the staircase that would take them to a lower level.

The tank, a Sabre, fired, and the top right section of the house was completely obliterated.

* * *

A/N: Our humblest and deepest apologies for the agonizingly long time it's taken to update. This is mostly my (meaning xakattak's) fault. I've been dealing with some rough times lately which include a lack of motivation to get anything done at all, but things are starting to look up and therefore so is this story. We hope none of you have lost interest in this story, because things are about to get very exciting. Keep reading, and please review! Thank you!


End file.
